


In Jackson Heights

by Eliza_Peggy_Angelica



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, In the Heights - Miranda/Hudes
Genre: AKA: I copied the character listing from an ITH character breakdown, Alex is Nina, Alexander Hamilton is a Mess, All the characters listed above are listed in order of importance, Angelica is Daniela, Angst, But French, Eliza is Usnavi, F/F, F/M, Fluff, George is Kevin, I don’t even know, In The Heights Au, John is Benny, Lafayette is Piragua Guy, M/M, Maria is Vanessa, Martha is Camila, Martha “Patsy” Jefferson is Graffiti Pete, Mulligan is Claudia, Note: if you’re a Hamilton fan you don’t have to understand ITH to get this, Peggy is Carla, Philip is Sonny, Slow Burn, This is kind of a passion project, To Whomever is reading this: I hope you have a nice day, and vice versa, everyone is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24854341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliza_Peggy_Angelica/pseuds/Eliza_Peggy_Angelica
Summary: It’s the weekend of the Fourth of July. In the heat wave ridden neighborhood of Jackson Heights, emotions and tensions run high as friends return and emotions are revealed. But it’s just one single weekend. What could possibly happen?
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, Elizabeth “Eliza” Schuyler & Philip Hamilton (1782-1801), Elizabeth “Eliza” Schuyler/Maria Reynolds, Martha Washington/George Washington
Comments: 22
Kudos: 47





	1. In the Heights

**Author's Note:**

> Updates every Monday, Thursday, and Saturday. Also, Jackson Heights is basically Washington Heights, but with a different name because it makes sense to me. Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the Heights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> (Edit: I recently published a new story called: “An Imperfect Man”. If you would be so kind as to check it out and leave feedback, I’d really appreciate it. Have a nice day!)

The sun was just peeking out from the edge of the sky when Elizabeth Schuyler stepped out from her Abuelo’s house and straightened her shirt, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

I need coffee, Eliza thought, sighing. She looked up and, just as she did everyday, the neighborhood vandal—or as Philip called her, Graffiti Patsy— shuffled and slid in a dance like motion as she sprayed her initials on the awning of Eliza’s bodega.

“Hey, that’s my wall!” Eliza shouted, and Graffiti Patsy scattered, grabbing her raggedy old backpack and taking off down the nearest alleyway. Eliza groaned and leaned up on her tiptoes to reach the grate and pull it down.  
Just as Eliza pulled the grate down, almost like clockwork, came the neighborhood Piragua Guy, his little bell ringing merrily and breaking the still, early morning quiet. “Ice cold piragua! Fruit de la passion. Chine. Cherry. Strawberry. And just for today, I got mamey,” he said in his thick French accent.

Eliza smiled and turned to wave with one hand, unlocking the bodega’s door with the other. “Hé, piragua, comment ça va?”

The Piragua Guy looked up from his cart. ‘Comme toujours, Madame Eliza.,” he greeted, flashing Eliza a bright smile. Much too bright for so early, Eliza mused quietly, finally unlocking the door.

She threw one last glance over her shoulder at the Piragua Man, who was slowly making his way down the street, before Eliza ducked inside her little Bodega, already running through the things she had to do that day.

Turn on the lights, set out the lottery tickets, procrastinate visiting Sanya… Sanya had been where her parents were born and emigrated from. Eliza had swore to go, but ten years after they died, and she’d made no progress.

“Goddamn, I gotta get on that,” Eliza mumbled.  
Eliza sighed and flipped on the lights inside the store. And thus her day had officially begun. She leaned up to the cabinet to her right and pulled out the coffee grounds, stirrers, and lids before she ducked down to the light brown fridge which was almost as old as she was.

Eliza grabbed the milk and opened it slowly, smelling it just as she’d done every morning since she was fourteen. 

“Fo!” Eliza cried, slamming the milk on the counter. It smelled god awful. Eliza glanced at the clock, wondering if she could run and get some milk from the store six blocks down. No, her usual customers would be arriving in a few minutes.

Then it hit her. 

Wait.

Eliza leaned down to the fridge, sticking her arm inside. “The milk has gone bad, hold up just a second. Why is everything in this fridge warm and tepid?” she asked herself, groaning loudly.

It was July third, in the midst of a New York City summer. Eliza had spent the last months fighting the heat, and of course the fridge would finally let go now. 

Eliza leaned down and hit the fridge. Hoping, praying, it would suddenly kickstart. She couldn’t make money if the coffee wasn’t light and sweet, and if she couldn’t make money she’d have to sell the store…  
Woah there, Eliza, Eliza scolded herself, begrudgingly putting the coffee grounds in the filter. One issue at a time.

And, just on schedule, in came the neighborhood’s ‘Abuelo’, Mulligan. “ Ooo-oo,” he cheered, walking in with a small smile.

“Abuelo, my fridge broke,” Eliza said, gesturing to the milk. “I got cafe but no con leche.”

Abuelo bit his lip for a moment, lost in thought, before he clapped loudly. “Try my mother’s old recipe: one can of condensed milk.” He nodded his head and Eliza sent a silent thanks to god for putting such a nice man into her life.

“Nice.” Eliza whistled low and took out the box of lottery tickets, handing one to Abuelo Mulligan. “Here’s your lottery ticket.”

Abuelo Mulligan took it gingerly, almost as if it would fly away if he wasn’t careful. “Thank you, Betsey. Paciencia y fe!” He raised his hands to the sky and was off.

Eliza smiled and turned back to the coffee. Abuelo Mulligan, despite his title, wasn’t actually anyone’s Abuelo. He had come to the city in nineteen forty-three and had never left. And, slowly but surely, he basically adopted all the barrio’s kids in all but name. 

He’d been there through everything.

Eliza straightened the box of lottery tickets and took out the boxes of candy bars, all the while checking on the new batch of coffee that was brewing. Eliza looked around and leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest with a small grin.

Sure, she was up shit’s creek, but she loved it.  
Eliza glanced at the clock and jumped to put a piece of bread in the mini oven and poured two cups of coffee. 

And, just as she took out the bread, right on schedule, in came the Washington’s— George and Martha.

Eliza waved and watched as they browsed, wincing when their eyes got to the price tags. Despite the fact that they ran a successful cab company on this very block, their son, Alex, was off at college. And, even with all the scholarships he got, tuition was still mad steep and everything the Washingtons bought was cheap.

George finally made his way to the counter. “Good morning, Eliza.”

Eliza nodded and bagged up his bread and slid over his and Martha’s coffee. “Pan caliente, café con leche.” Eliza gestured to the bag and George nodded, sliding over a twenty five dollar bill.

Eliza raised an eyebrow and George elaborated. “Put twenty dollars on today’s lottery.”

Martha gasped and hurried over, swatting George’s arm affectionately. “One ticket, that’s it,” she scolded. George raised his hands in the air in mock surrender.

“Hey, a man’s gotta dream.”

Martha rolled her dark eyes. “Don’t mind him, he’s all excited, ‘cause Alex flew in at three a.m. last night!” Martha practically squealed and Eliza almost couldn’t help her own squeal. It would be nice to have Alex back.

Maybe John would stop wearing a button up shirt and tie.

“Don’t look at me,” George said, pointing at Martha. “This one’s been cooking all week.”

Martha scoffed and took her coffee, making her way towards the door, George in tow. Once they opened the door, Martha turned. “Eliza, come over for dinner tonight. There’s plenty to eat.”

“Will do,” Eliza called and George waved goodbye. And, as soon as they’d left, the bell above the door rang once more and in walked Angelica and Peggy from the salon across the street.

Eliza leaned down to get two cups as Angelica immediately began talking. “So then Dolley walks in the room—” Peggy nodded in recognition— “And, mind you, she smells sex and cheap perfume.”

Peggy giggled slightly. “Uh oh.”

“It smells like one of those trees that you hang from the rear view,” Angelica continued, sliding a twix across the counter.

“Ah no!” Peggy said, and Angelica pivoted on her heel, wagging a finger in Peggy’s face.

“It’s true. She screams: ‘whose in there with you, James?’ Grabs a bat and kicks in the door.” Angelica paused for dramatic effect just as Eliza placed the lids on her and Peggy’s coffees.

“He’s in bed with Thomas from the liquor store.”

Eliza and Peggy gasped and said, in tandem, “No me diga!”

Angelica nodded and slid over three dollars.

“Thanks, Eliza,” they chorused before walking out the door right as Eliza’s younger cousin, Philip, who she ran the bodega with, slipped in.

Eliza crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot, shaking her head. “Philip, you’re late.” The silent ‘again’ hung in the air between them.

And, in true Philip fashion, instead of even trying to seem apologetic, he shrugged and threw an arm over Eliza’s shoulder. “Chillax, you know you love me.”

Eliza shoved him off her playfully and glanced at the clock. The morning rush was just about to begin. At least this time Philip had the decency to arrive before rush hour. Three, two, one… Eliza counted silently, before five people walked in and off they went.

Philip bustled around the shop as Eliza manned the counter. People moved sluggishly, despite the fact that this was their stop before work.

One dollar, two dollars, one fifty, one sixty-nine, Eliza counted silently before an obviously bashful teen hurried by her, looking around the aisle where they held condoms, his acne ridden face a bright pink. Eliza smirked. “What kind are you looking for?” she called from across the counter.

If it was possible, the boy turned more red and dashed out of the store, leaving a cackling Eliza behind. She let out one last laugh before hurrying back to the coffee.

Eliza hurried to serve and ring up the people now glancing at their watches and beginning to hurry. “That’s two quarters. Two quarter waters. The New York Times. You need a bag for that? The tax is added”. The same thing everyday. Not that Eliza minded.

She liked knowing most everyone’s names and liked the reliability of her life. It was enough to know their stories, the fact that they all bought a lottery ticket. That they all had dreams.

And, finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only about twenty minutes, the people filtered out. Eliza leaned against the counter before the bell above the door rang again, and in strolled Eliza’s best friend, John Laurens.

“You ain’t got no skills,” John sang, sauntering up to the counter like he owned the place. Eliza rolled her eyes and straightened up, grabbing the cup of coffee she had especially waiting for John.

“John!” Eliza cheered.

“Yo, lemme get a—” John began.

“Milky Way,” Eliza finished, slapping a milky way onto the counter.

John furrowed his brows before he continued. “Yeah, lemme also get a—

“Daily News—”

“And a—”

“Post—”

“And most important, my—”

“Boss’ second coffee, one cream—”

“Five sugars!” Eliza and John finished together, high fiving. John laughed loudly and straightened his tie.

“I’m the number one earner,” he sang.

‘What?!” Eliza and Philip yelled in tandem.

“The fastest learner,” John continued, fussing with his hair in one of the mirrors for sale.

“What?!”

John turned and gave Eliza and Philip a wide smile. “My boss can’t keep me on the damn back burner,” he grumbled, glaring at his boss’, George Washington’s, second coffee.

Eliza tittered. “Yes, he can.”

John shot her a dirty look before continuing. “I’m making moves, I’m making deals, but guess what?”

Eliza quirked an eyebrow. “What?” she asked, her voice filled with mirth.

John leaned forward on the counter just as Philip placed his elbow on her shoulder. And, in synch, they said, “You still ain’t got no skills.”

I should’ve seen that coming, Eliza thought, leaning backwards and resting against the cabinets. “Hardee har.”

John suddenly got a wicked grin, and began glancing around the shop. “Yo, Maria show up yet?”

Eliza felt her face turn bright pink and she gave John her hardest glare. “Shut up!”

John walked around the counter and threw an arm around Eliza’s shoulders. “Hey, little homie, don’t get so upset.” Eliza bristled at the ‘little’ comment and felt her face grow more hot.

“Man…” She shoved John off of her.

“Buy the girl a meal on the real, or you ain’t got no skills,” John finished, giving Eliza yet another unwanted opinion. Eliza had half a mind to bring up Alex returning home today, if only to watch John get flustered, when the door opened and Maria Lewis strolled in on the phone.

“Nooo! No no nooo! No no nooo, no-no-no! Nooo, no-no-no! No-no-no-no-no-no-no-no, no-no-no-no-no!” she cried into the phone, pacing back and forth in front of the counter, her grey heels clicking as she did.

Maria stopped pacing and placed a hand on her hip, taking a breath before she continued speaking. “Mr. Knox, I got the security deposit; it’s locked in a box in the bottom of my closet. It’s not reflected in my bank statement, but I’ve been savin’ to make a down payment and pay rent.”

Ah, it was about moving.

Maria paused before her face lit up and Eliza knew she was smiling by John and Philip’s shared smug looks.

“No, no, I won’t let you down!” Maria said, seemingly placating the ‘Mr. Knox’ she was on the phone with.

Eliza turned when John nudged her arm and hissed, “Here’s your chance, ask her out, right now.” She rolled her eyes and tried to ignore Philip whispering something in John’s ear.

Maria’s sweet voice broke through the silence. “I’ll see you later, we can look at that lease.”

“Do something,” John hissed. “Make your move, don’t freeze.” And, before Eliza could register anything, John shoved her towards the counter. And, by the grace of God, or maybe the desire to not embarrass herself, Eliza righted herself before Maria looked up from her phone.

“Hey!” Eliza greeted enthusiastically when Maria looked up.

Maria grinned and stepped forward, leaning over the counter. “You owe me a bottle of cold champagne.” Eliza and Maria had made a bet years ago, when they were much younger, that the first one to leave the barrio owed the other a bottle of cold champagne.

To be honest, Eliza had forgotten all about that bet.

“Are you moving?” Eliza asked.

Maria looked towards the window, her expression dreamy. “Just a little credit check and I’m on that downtown train.”

Eliza nodded as Philip thrust Maria’s coffee cup into 

Eliza’s hands. Eliza passed it over to Maria. “Well, your coffee’s on the house.”

Maria grinned and nodded. “Okay…”

“Eliza, ask her out,” John hissed into Eliza’s ear. Eliza swatted him away.

And Philip, much less adept at the art of subtlety, practically yelled, “No way!”

Eliza shot him a glare, Maria took a step back, obviously shocked, and John looked like he was about to burst with laughter. “I’ll see you later,” Maria said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “So…” She waved half heartedly and strolled out.

Eliza let out something between a cry and a groan and slammed her head against the counter. John tsked. “Oooh… Smooth operator, aw, damn, there she goes.” 

He grabbed Eliza by the arm and hoisted her up, leading her outside to the pavement where people rushed on by.  
“Yo, bro, take five, take a walk outside,” John advised, shutting the bodega’s store. “You look exhausted, lost, don’t let life slide. The whole hood is struggling, times are tight, and you’re stuck to this corner like a streetlight!”

Eliza glanced up at one of the streetlights ahead of her. “Yeah,” she said quietly, “I’m a streetlight, chokin' on the heat.” Eliza looked around at everyone moving while she remained standing still. The world spun around while she remained, the same routine for the last ten years.

Eliza squared her shoulders, waved bye to John, and hurried back inside the store. “I’m not stuck,” Eliza mumbled to herself. “Everyday is different, and I’m switchin’ up the beat.”

Her parents had come here, dirt poor, and had eventually bought the store. They were gone now, sure, but Eliza carried on their legacy everyday. And one day, one day, she’d be sipping margaritas on a beach while Philip wrote the checks for a change.

Eliza glanced out the window at all the flags up on display. Her wonderful, diverse neighborhood filled with people from all over the world.

And, sure, it got more expensive everyday, and sure, tonight felt like it was a million years away, but today was all they got. And Eliza was not about to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I don’t know, but I had fun writing it. Updates every Monday, Thursday, and Saturday. The chapters will, probably, get longer. Have a nice day, and, if you haven’t listened to In the Heights yet, you should.
> 
> (Also, don’t feel pressured to leave comments or Kudos, but it would be nice.)


	2. He’s Back and He’s Walking Real Slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathe-Benny’s (John’s) Dispatch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Also, I know in the actual ITH show, Sonny has a crush on Nina, I’m not doing that with Alex and Philip. Here, Philip just looks up to Alex.)  
> Enjoy!

Eliza hurried outside to where Philip was chatting with Abuelo on his stoop. “Philip!” Eliza shouted, and Philip froze. “What did I say? Go fix the fridge.”

Philip shook his head. “Hells no! It’s blowing fuses and sparking and shit.” Eliza almost reprimanded him for his language before deciding that it wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t like Philip would listen, anyway.

Abuelo laughed gently. “Eliza, you should send him to Sanya for the summer. Let him work so his nikes get real dirt on them.” Philip mock glared at him from where he was tying his shoes.

“I ain’t wasting no plane ticket on this kid,” Eliza said, ruffling Philip’s hair, which elected a squawk of protest from him. “I’ll be on Sanya with a rum and coke. Philip can stay here and sell twinkies.”

Abuelo let out a sharp pearl of laughter as Philip scoffed. “Sell?” Philip laughed in disbelief. “I’ll give them away for free. I’ll be the Robin Hood of El Barrio.” And, with that, Philip ran back to the cool, air conditioned shop.

Eliza sighed and wondered just how much money she would save if she just hired someone else. But, before she could begin doing the mathematics in her head, turning around the corner was Alexander Hamilton-Washington.

Alex looked around the block before his eyes shot up to Abuelo and Eliza and he hurried over. “Hey,” Alex said, almost uncertainly, and Eliza leaned forward to hug him.

“Alex, what is up?” Eliza asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. Alex laughed and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Jet lag. I haven’t slept all night.” At Eliza and Abuelo’s pitying expression, Alex shrugged again. Eliza frowned slightly, before shrugging mentally. That was probably why Alex was so uncharacteristically quiet: jetlag.

Abuelo broke the silence with a cry of joy. “It’s the watermelon on my heart!” Alex’s face brightened and he leaned down to hug Abuelo.

“Bendición, Abuelo.” Alex pulled back and displayed his typical charming smile. The smile that, had Alex not spent all of high school with his nose in a book, would’ve made him very popular.

“Congratulations,” Abuelo cheered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Alex’s ear. “Your first year at Stanford University!”

Alex laughed tightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It felt more like ten.”

Abuelo waved his comment off. “You just missed your parents, that’s all.”

“I’m here to see you guys,” Alex revealed, dusting his pants off. Eliza grinned at him and Alex grinned back.  
God, it was nice to have Alex back. He always managed to make things so much more interesting.

Eliza leaned down to nudge Alex’s shoulder. “So, did you kick some college ass?”

Alex snorted. “I got mine handed to me on a silver platter.”

Eliza and Abuelo scoffed. “Please,” Abuelo said in disbelief. “You knew the ABC’s when you were… six months old!”

Eliza chimed in. “You registered half this block to vote.”

“The future mayor of Nueva York!”

“I wanna be your campaign manager,” came a voice and, when Eliza turned, she sighed upon seeing it was Philip who was, obviously, not fixing the fridge. Philip slid up to the railing and grinned down at Alex. “Yo, recognize this face?”

Alex stifled a laugh with a cough. “Look who’s a grown man!”

“Check out the goatee,” Philip said, running his hands over his chin. Alex furrowed his brows and squinted.

“That’s fridge grease,” Eliza chimed in and Alex’s mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. Philip shoved Eliza’s shoulder.

“Why are you so jealous of my skills?” he asked, and Eliza shoved him towards the bodega. 

“Back to work, Philip.” Alex waved goodbye and Eliza stopped before going inside the shop. “Stop by later, Alex!” Alex nodded and Eliza hurried inside before all the cold air could filter out.

Alex turned to Abuelo, squeezing his hands and forcing the lump in his throat down. “Those recipes you sent were my survival kit.” I just wish they’d helped me survive class… 

Abuelo smiled and cupped Alex’s cheek with his rough, calloused hands. “I had to make sure you remembered the flavor of home!” He stood up suddenly. “Bueno, come inside. I have your sandwich ready.”

Alex shook his head despite how tempting it was to go inside and cry on Abuelo’s couch and lament his failure. “I’ll be there in a second.”

Abuelo nodded and squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll go put the fan on!”

Alex nodded and watched him go, feeling the tightness in his chest, which had left at the sight of his pseudo family, return, twisting and turning. Reasonably, Alex shouldn’t have been this nervous.

This was his street.The street he’d walked his whole life. And, as people passed him, they smiled and waved, their faces glowing with pride. He had been the one to make it out. And now he was back. Not for summer, but for good.

He had tried so hard to make them all proud, but now he was back and walking real slow. How was he supposed to say that while he was away he’d had so much to hide?

Alex laughed tightly. The irony of the situation was not lost on him. Alex Hamilton-Washington, the guy who wrote like he was running out of time, was at an utter loss for words.

“Continuez à marcher le chemin pour toute votre vie. Respirer…” Alex looked up to see the piragua guy singing softly as he made his way around the block.

“Just breathe,” Alex said quietly, taking a deep breath. “Just breathe.”

Alex let his shoulders drop as he looked around the block with a small smile. As the radio played old forgotten boleros, Alex could almost remember when the city was his. He remembered everyone’s praise since before he could form a coherent sentence, “Oh, je t'adore, je t'aime.”

They’d said it all his life. Even when he’d gone off to Stanford. Their words repeated in his head on a loop. They’d all waved and said: “Alex, be brave, and you're gonna be fine!”

Not that they thought he would fail… which he had.  
He’d dropped out of college. He’d completely and utterly failed. What was he even supposed to say to them? “Hey, I’m home?”

It would surely come as a shock. They weren’t worried about Alex. They had never been.

They were counting on him to succeed. He’d always been the one who’d made the grade, been at the top of every class. But, every night while staying on his friend Nicholas’ couch, he wondered if perhaps he should’ve just stayed home.

Alex looked up and his eyes drifted to his apartment, to the fire escape he’d climbed, late at night, wide awake, while everyone else was asleep.

On that fire escape he’d handwritten all his scholarship essays, and he’d gotten every one he applied for. Not that he was surprised. Although, now, he certainly was.

It was just Alex, wondering what would he be now that his future was so bleak?

Alex took a deep breath and stood up, straightening his spine, as Mrs. Arnold approached him.

He smiled at her as brightly as he could muster.  
“Alex, it’s good to see you back!” Mrs. Arnold said, patting his shoulder gently. Alex nodded.

“It’s good to be home.” And that was almost true.

“How are you doing? Busy?”

Alex shrugged in what, he hoped, was a nonchalant manner. God, he wished he was busy. “Yeah. You know, lots of tests, lots of papers.”

Mrs. Arnold nodded, seemingly satisfied. She waved goodbye and walked off. Alex waved as well before letting his shoulders sag once she was out of sight.

Then the thought hit him. “Oh god,” Alex groaned under his breath. What will my parents say? He wondered.

He glanced at the dispatch booth across the street. Could he do it? Could he really go in there and admit that he’d failed, all the while he knew that he was letting his parents— the whole block— down?

Before he could work himself into a panic, Abuelo’s voice broke into his reverie. “Alex?” he asked, poking his head out the door.

Alex took a deep breath. He was Alexander Hamilton-Washington. He could do this.

“Just breathe,” Alex reminded himself under his breath before hurrying inside Abuelo’s house.

John stood awkwardly in the corner of Washington’s Car Service as George, his boss, talked on the microphone, leaving John with nothing to do.

“One hundred ninety-two, on the corner, across from McDonald’s,” George said just as Martha Washington entered. George continued. “Attencion, I know it’s hot, but I don’t want to see any drivers without a tie. This is Washington’s.”

Martha smiled when her and John’s eyes met, but it didn’t take a genius to tell that she was nervous. George leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Martha, how can you be stressed when our boy is home?”

Martha sighed, rubbing her temples. “The mechanic called.” George winced. “He won’t touch another engine until we pay for last month.”

George nodded, rubbing Martha’s shoulders. “Then I’ll get a little engine grease on my hands.” He shrugged as if to say no big deal.

Martha giggled. “What, so you can hurt your back again?”

George cocked his hip out. “You used to think I was sexy when I fixed cars.” John hid his laugh behind his hand. He couldn’t imagine George Washington being described as anything but serious.

“Before all that mileage…” Martha trailed off, her eyes scanning a letter on the counter, “Mira, Uptown Investment Group…”

George snatched the paper from Martha’s hands and threw it in the trash. “Another developer. It’s not an offer. It’s an insult.”

Martha opened another letter. “Regency Bank. We’re behind on all these payments. We need an energy change loan.”

George kissed Martha’s cheek. “We’ll go see the bank manager Monday.”

Martha shrugged him off. “This can’t wait, papi!”

“The dispatcher called out,” George responded.

And, say what you wanted about John, but he knew when an opportunity arose. “Hey, Boss, I’ll cover the radio,” he exclaimed, stepping forward.

George frowned. “You don’t speak Spanish.” The silent “You know nothing of your own culture”, rang in John’s ears.

John waved away George’s comment. “Five years with these drivers? Psh.”

Before George could speak, Martha spoke up. “How much English did you know when you started here? How much of my culture did you know? John is doing fine.”

George, begrudgingly, handed John the microphone. 

And, if John were a character in a musical or a poorly written comedy, he would’ve jumped up and cheered at the top of his lungs.

John cleared his throat. “There’s a new voice riding the heat wave today—”

George placed a hand on his shoulder and John startled. “Just get them from point A to point B.”

John nodded eagerly. “I got your back.”

George sighed and John could tell that he was already regretting his decisions. He hurried out without another word, but Martha at least waved goodbye.

John took a deep breath and waited until they were in their car before he started speaking. “Check one, two, three… check one, two, three… this is John on the dispatch. Yo!”

John grabbed the microphone and held it up to his face. “Atención, yo, attention. It’s John, and I’d like to mention, I’m on the microphone this mornin’. Honk ya horn if you want it!” The horns honked over the radio and John cheered, continuing on.

“Okay, we got traffic on the west side. Get off at 79th, and take the left side of Riverside Drive, and ya might slide. West End’s ya best friend if you catch the lights. And don’t take the Deegan; Manny Ramirez is in town this weekend. Sorry, Dominicans, take Route Eighty-seven. You ain’t getting back in again.” The door opened, John turned to see who it was, and he froze.

“Hold up a minute,” he whispered into the microphone. He set the microphone down and turned his full attention to Alex Hamilton-Washington who was standing awkwardly, yet still beautifully, in the doorway.

“John, hey.” Alex gingerly took a step forward, waving.

“Alex, you’re home today!” Alex nodded and John internally winced.  
Way to state the obvious, Laurens, he scolded himself.

Alex looked around. “Any sign—”

“Of your folks?” John asked. Alex nodded. “They’re on their way.”

“Anyway…” Alex gestured to the door and John tried to push down his disappointment and the desire to yell, But you just came back! We haven’t caught up!

“It’s good to see your face,” John responded and Alex turned a shade of crimson. 

“Anytime…” Alex said, waving and making his way for the door.

“Hold up a minute,” John called and Alex stopped, turning to face John. John continued. “You used to run this dispatch, right?”

Alex smiled somewhere between haughtily and insecurely. “Once or twice.”

John walked back to the microphone and held it up. “Well check the technique! Yo! There’s a traffic accident, I have to mention, at the intersection of 10th Ave and the Jacob Javitz Convention Center. And check it, don’t get stuck in the rubber-neckin’, on a Hundred-Ninety-Second there’s a double-decker bus wreck! Now, listen up, we got a special guest!” 

Alex’s head shot up at that. “John…”

“Live and direct from a year out west,” John continued despite Alex’s mumbled protests.

“John…”

“Welcome him back, ‘cause he looks mad stressed. Alex Hamilton-Washington, the barrio’s best!”

John glanced at Alex, who was beginning to smile, and he grinned widely. “Honk your horns.” The horns honked on his command. “He’s smiling… say hello!”

John thrust the microphone into Alex’s hands. Alex, hesitantly, began singing into the microphone. “Hello…” As he continued, he gained more confidence. “Good morning!” Alex’s voice slowly quieted down and his face dropped as he handed the microphone back to John.

“I better find my folks. Thanks, for the welcome wagon.” John shrugged, looking down at Alex, who was so close yet so far away.

“Anytime. Anytime, Alex.”

Alex remained standing by John for another second before he turned for the door. Just as an idea popped into John’s head.

“Wait here with me!” John blurted out. Alex turned on his heel, keeping one hand on the doorframe. “It’s getting hot outside. Turn up the a.c., stay here with me?”

Alex bit the inside of his cheek before he nodded and moved to stand beside John. And, when Alex looked up at John with a nervous smile, John swore he felt like he was walking on air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!  
> Updates every Monday, Thursday, and Saturday!  
> And thank you for the kudos. It’s nice motivation!  
> Have a nice day!  
> (Also, don’t feel pressured to leave comments or Kudos, but it would be nice.)


	3. It’s a Lullaby in Its Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It Won’t Be Long Now-Inutil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the chapter!  
> By the way, in this AU, Alexander was adopted by the Washington’s when he was a little baby. And, when he was old enough to understand his parents’ lives, he decided to go by Hamilton as well as Washington. Anyway, enjoy the chapter!  
> Updates every Monday, Thursday, and Saturday.

Eliza sighed as she got off the phone with Abuelo’s doctor. He’d missed another Doctor’s appointment. Eliza gently closed the door to the Bodega and hurried over across the street to Abuelo’s.

“Oye, you missed another Doctor’s appointment,” Eliza said in lieu of a proper greeting, crossing her arms over her chest. Abuelo Mulligan frowned.

“Eliza, would you take medical advice from a man named Doctor Gross?” Eliza had to laugh at that one. Everything’s fine, as long as he’s taking his medicine.

“As long as you're taking your medicine.” Abuelo went silent and Eliza sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Abuelo.”

Abuelo looked down at the floor. “It makes my heart work better, but in return it gives me headaches. Imaginate, with what those pills cost, I could get myself a good facelift.” Abuelo gestured to his stomach then to his face and Eliza sighed. She was fighting a lost cause.  
The most she could do was try and make sure he was okay.

And, in regards to lost causes, out of the Bodega came Philip, a Cola Champagne in his hand. “Who hooked it up? Ice cold Country Club Cola Champagne.” Philip took a drink. “Ahh.”

Eliza leveled him with a look that she hoped conveyed that she was not amused. “Put that on your tab. As of now you owe me… what? Five thousand, three hundred—”

“Eliza,” Abuelo interrupted, “I think he’s trying to tell you he fixed the refrigerator.”

Philip nodded smugly, sliding up to Eliza. “So, let's talk about that raise. Free sodas or I walk.” Philip crossed his arms over his chest.

Eliza threw her hands in the air. “Half price, diet, Cola Champagne. That’s my final offer.”

Philip scoffed. “Ain't no Dominicans be drinking no diet soda!”

“Be thankful,” Maria called from across the street. “At least somebody around here is getting a raise.” She glared pointedly at the salon.

“I’m starting a union,” Philip called back, trudging across the street to return to his shift. “Underage cousins of Bodega workers, unite!”

Maria nodded in agreement before she turned back to the call, waiting for them to finish transferring her. Come on, Maria thought, tapping her fingers against her phone. I don’t have all day.

Maria let out a breath as Angelica stomped out of the salon, Peggy in tow. “Excuse me,” Angelica said, placing a hand on her hip challengingly. “It isn’t social hour.”

Maria sighed and covered the speaker of her phone with her shoulder. Why couldn’t Angelica resume packing? Why did she have to bother Maria, who really didn’t have the energy to deal with her bullshit right now?

“I’m sorry, I’m on the phone with Con Edison. I gave my mom half my check to pay the rent.”

Angelica looked almost sorry. “Que paso? She drank it away?” Angelica’s voice lowered, which Maria had come to realize was Angelica’s ‘serious tone’. “Maria, when are you going to get out of that toxic environment?”

Finally, someone on the other line spoke, saving Maria from having to tell Angelica that she didn’t know. She didn’t know at all. “Hi, ma’am?” Maria said, cutting off the lady giving the cliche introduction. “I get my check on Monday, can I pay it then?”

“Can you hold?” The lady asked sweetly. Maria resisted the urge to cry and stomp her foot like a child.

“Yes, I’ll hold,” she huffed, and thus began the stupid holding music.

Maria squeezed her hand into a fist and turned to Angelica, smiling sickly sweet. “Angelica, I know I still owe you from last time—” Angelica held out a hand, cutting Maria off.

“Peggy, what’s my rule?” Angelica asked, tapping her ear patronizingly.

Peggy perked up. “She’ll do anything for you, but she won’t support your mother’s malfunction.”

“Dysfunction,” Angelica corrected.

Maria finally gave way to her urge and stomped her foot.  
“My light’s going to be out all week!”

Angelica didn’t look moved at all. As a result, seeing that she was getting nowhere, Maria turned back to her phone, listening half heartedly to the guy on the line. At least this time it hadn’t taken ten minutes to transfer her. “Yes, I’m still here.”

“What would Jesus do?” Peggy suddenly asked, grabbing Angelica’s arm.

Angelica gave her a flat expression. “Do I look like Jesus to you?” Peggy shook her head and the words the guy on the other line had said finally hit Maria and she turned her whole attention back to the call.

“No, don’t transfer me!” The waiting music was back. “Hello? Hello?”

Angelica rolled her eyes and snatched up Maria’s phone and hung up, leaving Maria gaping. Great, just great. Now I’ll have to wait all over again, Maria thought.

“Comay, it’s time to clear out all that negative energy. So take five, and go get me some packing tape!”  
Maria rolled her eyes, adjusting her shirt. “Anything else while I’m at it?”

“A Pepsi,” Angelica snapped, walking inside the salon with Peggy right behind her.”Tough love, chacha.”

Maria rolled her eyes, sighing as she did. She looked up and could hear the elevated train rumbling past. Maria smiled as everyone else groaned. The elevated train had never bothered her. It was almost like a lullaby, lulling her to sleep each night with promises of taking her away from her crowded apartment and her crowded life.  
Whenever she brought back boys, usually from the club, they couldn’t tolerate the noise and left grumbling. It’s not like Maria minded. She’d never let them stay, anyway. Best they leave of their own accord rather than her having to chase them out.

But one day, one day, she was hopping that elevated train and she was gonna ride away from the barrio, and go downtown, where no one knew her and she’d be free. 

“It won’t be long now,” Maria reminded herself quietly as she neared the Schuyler Bodega.

And, as she neared, the group of neerdowell guys who hung around Eliza’s bodega noticed her and started whistling in some weird, perverse, mating call. But, instead of letting it bother her like it had years before, 

Maria simply flipped her hair over her shoulder and walked on.

Their idiotic machismo pride wasn’t going to stop her. Besides, it was a compliment. (Or so they said.)

It wasn’t like it mattered anyway. Maria had come a long way since James, and she had decided long ago that she would never let anyone tell her what to feel or how she should feel again. She didn’t mind their whistles, or the honking horns.

If she was in the mood, it would be her decision, and it certainly wouldn’t be anyone of those guys. Besides, she’d be leaving soon. But, as the boys neared closer, Maria shouted out, “Ay, Eliza, help! SOS!”

From the bodega, out running came Eliza Schuyler, brandishing a bright green water gun. The boys scattered like mice and Maria felt herself smile as she waved goodbye to them. Eliza let out a breath and tossed the water gun into the bodega where the door was still open.

“Good morning, Maria,” Eliza sang, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “If it isn’t the loveliest girl in the place.”

Maria felt her cheeks flush and then she noticed the smudge of foam on Eliza’s upper lip. “You’ve got some schmutz on your face.” And, on a whim, without thinking it through, Maria leaned forward to wipe the foam from Eliza’s lip.

Eliza was practically bright pink when Maria pulled back. As soon as Maria pulled her hand back, Eliza rubbed her wrist over the schmutz on her face. It was cute. And, before Maria could contemplate the deeper meaning of that silent confession, Eliza began speaking. 

“Another late night, eh? Whoever you were with, they’ve got nothing on these biceps. I bench press two gallons of milk and two cans of Goya beans.” Eliza flexed her nonexistent muscles and Maria bit her cheek to keep from bursting out in laughter.

“It was my mom,” Maria admitted, watching as Eliza’s face dropped. “They shut our power off. Again.” Maria sent a glare to the sky as Philip hurried out from the store and handed Eliza a coffee cup.

Eliza sent Philip a thumbs up before she turned back to Maria and held out the cup for her to take. “Coffee, whole milk. Very sweet. Little bit of cinnamon.” Maria smiled and took a sip.

“Mm. Just like my Abuela used to do.” Eliza practically beamed; as if Maria didn’t always compliment her coffee.

“That’s what the ladies say. I remind them of their grandma!” Eliza said, very enthusiastically, and Maria got a front row seat to see Eliza realize what she said and get flustered. 

Holy hell, that girl is adorable, Maria thought, watching as Philip suddenly entered the conversation, crying out, 

“Good morning!” Eliza joined him in saying good morning and Philip came over to Maria, spinning her while Eliza did some dance that was vaguely reminiscent of a robot.

But, like most good things in Maria’s life, it was interrupted. This time by Angelica. “MARIIIIIAAAAAA!” came Angelica’s voice from across the street. “I’m thirsty, coño!”

Maria turned to Eliza. “Can I get a pepsi and some packing tape?” Eliza nodded rapidly and hurried inside, mumbling to herself.

Philip watched Maria watch Eliza with a small smile. He cleared his throat and Maria diverted her attention back to Philip. “Uh,” Philip began, glancing at the open door to the bodega, “my cousin over there, with her tongue hanging out, has been meaning to ask you—”

“Yes?” Maria asked, raising an eyebrow. Philip nodded and lowered his voice.

“What a lady, such as yourself, might be doing tonight?”

Maria couldn’t help but smile. It was such an Eliza thing to do to accidentally, or maybe intentionally, get your sixteen year old cousin to ask someone out for you. But Maria wasn’t about to refuse an offer for a fun night. She was going out tonight, anyway. “Does your cousin dance?”

Philip pursed his lips. “Like a drunk Chita Rivera.”

“Okay,” Maria answered and nodded, strolling up to Eliza who was just stepping out of the Bodega. “After Alex’s dinner, we can hit up a few clubs”—Maria grabbed the bag with the pepsi and packing tape— “and check out the fireworks.”

Maria waved goodbye and hurried off, leaving a gaping Eliza in her wake. “Oh, snap! Who’s that?” Eliza asked. 

Philip moved to high five her, but Eliza shirked away. “Don’t touch me, I’m too hot! Yes! Qué pasó? Here I go! So dope! Et vous le savez! Ne t'arrête pas, continue!”

Philip cheered and joined in Eliza’s celebration on the last word. Eliza felt giddy and like running around telling everyone she came across that she was going on a date, tonight, with Maria Lewis.

“Did you see me?” Eliza asked and Philip rolled his eyes. “What a way to begin the weekend. Philip, anything you want is free, man!” Philip cheered and ran inside the bodega. And, perhaps it was a testament to how excited she was, Eliza didn’t even care that Philip was probably going to raid her store.

“Gonna see this honey, make a little money. And one day I’ll hop Jet blue.” Eliza sent a glance at the sky.

“But until that fateful day, I’m grateful I got a destination. I’m runnin’ to make it home, and home’s what Maria’s runnin’ away from. I’m runnin’ to make it home, and home’s what Maria’s runnin’ away from…” Eliza sang to herself as she ambled inside the bodega.

Maria took a deep breath, running the broom Angelica had thrust into her hands across the curb. Sure, the neighborhood salon didn’t pay Maria exactly what she wanted, but, in a weird way, she didn’t mind.

As she swept the curb, she could hear the turbo engines blazing a trail through the sky. She was closer to the airport here than at her apartment. It was easier here to look up at the sky and imagine walking to JFK and flying away.

“It won’t be long now,” Maria whispered to herself, dragging the broom across the curb one last time. “Anyday.”

Alex hummed quietly as John listened at the microphone.  
In this little bubble with John, Alex could almost forget what he’d have to do when his parents returned home.

Almost being the operative word.

John suddenly perked up and frowned, biting his lip, which Alex had noticed was something he did when he was nervous.

“Roger… Como? Uh, done estas?” John said into the microphone. Alex covered his hand with his mouth to hide his smirk.

“Slow down!” John said. “Uno momento!” By John’s expression the guy kept talking. John groaned and slammed the microphone down. “Yo, cabron, I’m trying to help you!”

Alex gently slid the microphone away. “Who taught you Spanish?”

“The drivers. Dirty bastards.” John glared at the microphone as he spoke. 

Alex shook his head and held the speaker to his lips, placing the headphones over his ears. “Ah, dime.”

The man talked in rapid fire Spanish, and Alex could easily see why newcomer John was struggling so much. Alex placed the speaker over his chest. “He’s going to the cloisters, he’s stuck on the Hudson.”

John waved a hand. “Easy. Exit fourteen, follow the signs to Fort Tryon.” 

“The u turn off exit fifteen is quicker,” Alex pointed out. John frowned slightly and Alex immediately wanted to take back anything he said if only to make John smile again.

“It’s also illegal.”

Alex smirked and began speaking, all the while maintaining eye contact with John. “Salga quince, gire y continúe recto.” A small smile slowly made its way onto John’s face.

John crossed his arms over his chest, a disbelieving smile on his face. “You gave him your directions didn’t you?”

Alex shrugged and set the microphone and speaker down, looking up at John with a single eyebrow raised. “Are you still intimidated by me?”

And, before John could speak, the door opened and the pit of dread that had momentarily dissipated was back. “Eyes on the dispatch, por favor,” Alex’s dad said, his eyes lighting up once he saw Alex.

Alex wondered how long his face would display such pride.

“Yes, sir,” John mumbled, putting the headphones back on.

“You look more handsome and even smarter,” Dad said, wrapping Alex in his arms.

“It must be the bags under my eyes,” Alex shot back as his Mom walked in, her face lighting up into a wide smile.

“¡El bebé de mamá! Mi precioso hijo,” Mom cried. “Come, let me see my son.”

Alex felt his face flush pink. “Mom…”

Mom rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t dim in the slightest. “Excuse me, you think you’re all grown up?”

Alex shook his head and took a breath, grabbing his parents’ hands. “I was hoping we could grab a few coffees and go home for a minute.” Dad shook his head.

“No, we’re celebrating! Caridad still serves breakfast.”

Alex shook his head. “I ate at Abuelo Mulligan’s.”

Mom rolled her eyes, squeezing Alex’s cheek. “So? I get to fatten you up too. You’re practically skin and bones!”

Dad jumped in. “We have to go by Angelica’s; everyone wants to see you!”

“You guys!” Alex yelled, stepping back. He hadn’t meant to burst, but goddamnit, he needed them to listen. “Okay, I planned this whole speech on the plane…”

Dad’s face dropped and it took all of Alex’s willpower not to flinch. “John, give us a minute.”

John nodded, taking his headphones off and placing them on the counter. Then, he turned to Alex. “If there’s anything I can do—”

“Go,” Dad ordered, his voice dangerously low. John nodded and hurried out. Alex watched him go with a sense of foreboding. 

“Mijo?” Mom said, stepping forwards to place a hand on Alex’s shoulder right as Alex stepped back. He didn’t deserve their comfort. Alex took a deep breath.

It was now or never.

“I lost my scholarship.” Alex watched as his parents’ faces contorted. Alex waited for the feeling of relief to overwhelm him now that he’d gotten it off his chest, but it didn’t come. Instead, he felt just as pathetic and guilty as ever.

Mom spoke first. “Did you get in some kind of trouble?”

“No.”

Mom took a deep breath while Dad held his head in his hands. “It’s okay,” Mom said, and Alex almost laughed. A blatant lie. Nothing about this situation was ‘okay’. Not even close. “Just tell us what happened, Alexander.”

Alex nodded before he began speaking. “My grades were below the cutoff, so they put me on probation. After midterms they called me into the Dean’s office, and he was like, “We have to pull your scholarship.”

Very eloquent, Alex thought.

“But you were studying nonstop!” Mom protested.

Alex shook his head. “No, I was working to pay for books I didn’t have time to read. Look, I ended up taking a leave of absence.”

Alex watched as Mom breathed in air through her nose. “Does leave of absence mean drop out?” Alex remained silent, staring at the floor. Mom spoke up. “Alexander, look at me.”

Alex twiddled with the spare hair tie on his wrist. “I guess you could say I left school…”

“What?” Dad bellowed, and Alex stepped back.

“Oh my god, when?” Mom asked, her voice so quiet Alex almost couldn’t hear it.

“I didn’t know what to do…”

“When?” Mom demanded through her teeth.

“March…” Alex admitted, watching as his parents were shocked into silence for the second time in less than ten minutes, all because of him.

“Four months ago? What were you doing since then?” Mom demanded. Alex took a shaky breath, willing the lump in his throat to go away.

“Figuring out how to tell you… and staying on my friend’s couch.”

If it was possible that Alex’s mom could get more angry, she did. “Like a beggar? You lied to me, everytime I called you!”

Don’t you think I know that? Alex thought. Don’t you think I know that I’m letting you down?

“I couldn’t work two jobs, study for my finals, and finish my midterms!” Alex finally snapped, yelling it out. Logically, he knew he had no right to be mad, but, at the same time, he could care less.

Dad finally spoke up again. “Two jobs? You said it was gonna be one!”

“It’s expensive. The scholarship only covered part of it.”

Dad sighed loudly. “Then you pick up the phone and say, “Dad, I need some money.”

“You laid off two drivers this year,” Alex pointed out, thinking of John. It wouldn’t be fair to John, or anyone of the dispatch workers, for them to lose their jobs because Alex wasn’t smart enough to survive where he wasn’t the smartest person in the room.

“I would have found a way.”

“You don’t know what college is like!” Alex yelled. He regretted it as soon as he said it. It was a low blow, poking at the fact that his Dad hadn’t been able to afford college.

“Well then educate me, por favor!” Dad yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

There was a long, stilted silence before Mom finally spoke, grabbing her purse from where she’d set it down on the counter. “I’m going to go get started on dinner.”

Alex gaped at her. Really? After all this, she still wanted to have that stupid dinner? What would they even be celebrating— Alex’s failure?

“Cancel tonight,” Alex said weakly.

Mom glared. “You be home in an hour.” She tapped her watch before storming out of the dispatch.

Dad was quiet, staring at the floor. Finally: “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

Alex sniffled, finally unable to push back his tears. “What could you have done?” And with that, Alex stormed out. He didn’t really know where he was going, just that he needed to get away from his parents’ palpable disappointment.

George watched his son leave the dispatch. “This isn’t happening. Inútil! Useless…” This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. George suddenly felt just as helpless as his mother must’ve felt all those years ago.

His awful mother. Everyday, she cut the cane. She came home late and prayed for rain. And on the days when nothing came, his mother’s face was lined with shame. George remembered his mother slapping his face when he’d said he wouldn’t continue the family line of farming.  
He was going farther. And he had.

And today, Alex, his son, was home and he was useless. There was nothing he could do to fix this mess.

George sighed, running a hand over his face. He just didn’t understand. From the time George and Martha had adopted Alex when he was just two years old, they’d known he was special.

He was brighter than the other kids. He’d amaze George with things he learned each day He used to stay on the fire escape, while all the other kids would play.

And George vividly remembered standing beside Alex and saying: “I’m proud to be your father, ‘cuz you work so much harder, and you are so much smarter than I was at your age.”

He’d always known, from the moment he saw Alex’s bright, intelligent eyes, that Alex would change the world someday.

George stood up, his eyes drifting to the trash can where a balled up piece of paper sat. He would not be the reason that his family couldn’t succeed. And he was going to do something about this mess.

Because, otherwise, not only was it a waste of potential, but it made all of George’s work, all of his life, be for nothing. And he couldn’t let that happen.

George would not be useless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Updates every Monday, Thursday, and Saturday, and I hope you all have a nice day! And thank you for the kudos!
> 
> (Also, don’t feel pressured to leave comments or Kudos, but it would be nice.)


	4. Tell Me Something I Don’t Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No Me Diga-96,000

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter!

Maria was filing her nails when Angelica began doing what Angelica did best: talking about other people’s business. “You know me,” Angelica said. “I don’t like to talk about nobody. But listen to this.”

Maria looked up from her nails, before, of all people, Peggy interrupted Angelica before she could continue. 

“Angie, don’t!” Peggy whined, shaking her head. “My pastor said gossip is a sin.”

Angelica rolled her eyes and raised her hands skyward. “Jesus, forgive me. Anyways, Abigail went behind my back for a ten dollar hairdo, and guess what she found in her extensions?” Maria raised an eyebrow. “Una cucaracha. One of the big ones… with wings!”

Maria shuddered with her whole body just as the door to the salon opened and in walked Alex. “Hey, ladies,” he said and Maria ran over to him, launching herself at him. 

“Entre, mijo,” Angelica said, waving an arm at the half packed up salon.

Beside her, Peggy clapped happily. “Look who it is!” she cheered, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. 

Finally, Maria pulled away from her best friend. “Hells yeah, he’s back!” Maria cheered, squeezing Alex’s shoulder. Alex smiled and rolled his eyes at Angelica and Peggy before turning his gaze to Maria, his face growing serious.

“I called you all morning.”

Maria turned to Angelica and glowered. Angelica simply raised her hands in mock surrender. “Guess who confiscated my phone? Next fall, put me in your suitcase and take me with you.” Alex laughed, obviously uncomfortable, before turning around to face Angelica.

“Mind if I borrow Maria for a minute?” he asked, putting his charming smile on. Maria looked at Angelica as well, sticking her lip out and making her eyes as wide as possible. It wasn’t like they’d miss her at the salon. They were just packing up.

Angelica put her hands on her hips. “And what are we? Chopped chuletas?”

Peggy tsked from beside Angelica, walking over to Alex and leading him to a salon chair, running her index finger over his chin. “Pobrechico, you need a makeover!” 

Alex shook his head, moving Peggy’s manicured index finger off of his chin. “I’ve got to go help my mom… I’ll see you at dinner?” And, if Maria didn’t know any better, she’d say Alex seemed hesitant.

Angelica sighed, shaking her head mournfully. “I’m afraid not. I’ll be packing. Tomorrow we close the salon door forever!” Angelica’s signature smile dropped for half of a second before it was back in place.

Maria couldn’t help but feel bad for Angelica. She’d been here for almost ten years, and this shop was practically her baby.

Alex’s eyes widened. “Oh no.” He looked around the shop, then at his watch, before his shoulders dropped. “Fine. Ten minutes.”

Angelica, Maria, and Peggy cheered and Maria went to grab the spare nail filer. She hurried back over and grabbed Alex’s hand, sitting in the salon chair next to him and filing his nails as Angelica chattered on. “Can you believe the salon is moving to the Bronx?”

Maria laughed. “Gettin’ out of the barrio and headin’ to the hood.”

Angelica sent Maria a faux dirty look, an exasperated expression on her face. “They keep raising the rent.” She grabbed a pair of scissors. “What can I do?”

Alex whistled low and slapped his leg in fake disappointment. “Man, now who’s gonna mess up my hair?”

Angelica scoffed, tugging on Alex’s hair lightheartedly. “Excuse you. I mess up your hair at a discount price! And, if you come visit us in the Bronx, free eyebrow waxing.”

Alex nodded, running his fingers over his eyebrows. “Nobody but you touches these brows.”

Angelica pursed her lips. “So I see. Peggy, tweezers.” 

Alex gasped in mock offense as Peggy slapped the tweezers into Angelica's hands. Peggy immediately began running her hands through Alex’s hair.

“Ay, what happened to your hair? You need some hair gel!” Peggy exclaimed, clapping excitedly. Alex squawked in protest.

“No, do not make my hair all crunchy!”

Angelica shook her head jovially, placing her free hand on Alex’s shoulder. “You have to accept hair gel into your life!” Alex rolled his eyes as Angelica ran a hand over Alex’s face. “Gorgeous!”

“Linda!” Peggy added in, trimming Alex’s beared.  
Then Angelica and Peggy leaned down on each of Alex’s sides and whispered in his ear, “Tell me something I don’t know…” Alex pushed them away and Maria laughed, straightening up and flicking his cheek.

“Viejo!” Alex’s mouth formed an ‘o’ shape and Peggy giggled.

“Sucia!” Angelica added.

“Cabrona!” Peggy whispered, giggling a little as she said it. Maria rolled her eyes and adjusted the chair beside Alex, crossing her legs and turning to him.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Angelica, Maria, and Peggy said in unison. Maria resumed filing Alex’s nails as he watched on, mildly amused.

“A little of the top,” Peggy sang, trimming the top of Alex’s beard.

“A little on the side,” Angelica sang with Peggy, trimming the side of Alex’s beard.

“A little bit of news you’ve heard around the barrio,” Alex said suddenly, looking at Angelica expectantly. Angelica nodded slowly, getting one last cut off of his beard before she stepped back.

“Tell me something I don’t know…”  
Angelica nodded. “Bueno. You didn’t hear this from me,” She pointed at all of them and they all nodded. Maria knew the rule: you weren’t supposed to admit you’d heard the gossip from Angelica. Angelica nodded and continued, “but some little birdie told me that Eliza had sex with Theo.”

Maria shot up out of her chair at that, as Alex and Peggy mumbled, “No me diga.”

“Ah, no!” Maria yelled, glancing out the window to look across the street to where Eliza was waving at someone as they passed by her bodega. Eliza… with Theo? It couldn’t be true. “She’d never go out with a skank like that. Please tell me your joking.” Maria didn’t quite get why the very indication that Eliza slept with anyone, much less Theo, bothered her so much.

Angelica shrugged with both of her hands in the air. “Okay.” Maria frowned. “I just wanted to see what you say.”

Peggy and Alex burst into laughter beside her. “Oh ho, Angie,” Peggy chortled while Maria’s face grew hotter.

“Tell me something I don’t know!” Alex teased and the others joined in. “Mmm-hmm-mmm…”

Maria rolled her eyes, catching a glimpse of her bright red face in the mirror. She crossed her arms over her chest. “What? I don’t care.”

Alex, Angelica, and Peggy exchanged delighted looks. “Ay, bendito.”

Angelica finally decided to leave Maria alone and waltzed over to Alex, sitting in the chair Maria had previously occupied. “So, Alex, I hear you been talking to John…” Maria smirked at Alex when his cheeks flushed.

“And what do you hear?” Alex asked, crossing his arms over his chest and acting nonchalant despite the obvious proof that he wasn’t.

Angelica placed a hand over her chest like Alex had insulted her. “I hear plenty. They say he’s got quite a big… taxi!”

Alex’s face flushed even more red and Maria nodded, impressed. “No me diga…”

Alex groaned loudly, rubbing his temples. “Okay… I don’t wanna know where you heard all that.” Angelica smiled like the cat that caught the cream, obviously taking immense pleasure in having riled Alex up.

Peggy, however, was frowning as she tapped Angelica on the shoulder. “I don’t think I know what you mean.”

Angelica rolled her eyes. “Peggy! He’s packing a stretch limousine.”

Maria laughed loudly as Alex buried his face in his hands. “Tell me something I don’t know…”

“Long as he keeps it clean, right?” Peggy asked, smiling naively. Alex, Angelica, and Maria exchanged exasperated looks.

“Ay dios mio.”

Angelica waved her hand, dismissing what Peggy had said, and turned her whole body to Alex, taking his arm. “Alex, seriously, we knew you’d be the one to make it out!”

Alex’s face dropped and he averted his eyes. Maria spun the salon chair Alex sat in in her direction, taking his hands. “I bet you impressed them all out west. You were always the best, no doubt!”

Peggy moved to stand beside Maria, beaming at Alex. “We want front row seats to your graduation.”

Angelica gasped happily and stood up, clapping and nodding. “They’ll call your name—” Maria and Peggy joined Angelica on the last word. “—and we’ll scream and shout!”

“Alex! Alex! Alex!” Alex squeezed his hands into fists.

“Guys…”

Alex jumped up to his feet, his face bright red. “You guys!” Angelica, Maria, and Peggy stopped cheering, smiling at Alex with their heads cocked to the side. Alex took a deep breath, and, in a small, tiny voice said, “I dropped out.”

Angelica dropped back onto one of the chairs as Maria and Peggy looked at Alex, eyes wide. “No me diga…”  
Alex looked down at the floor, his gaze flitting everywhere but at the three people silently begging him to look at them. “I should go…” he mumbled, practically running out of the salon.

Angelica was the first one to speak up. “Well… that’s a shitty piece of news.”

Peggy shook her head, peeking out the window. “That boy never quit anything.”

Angelica looked out the window in frustration. Maria could practically see the wheels in her head turning, trying to come up with an explanation for why Alex had dropped out. Maria had a feeling even Alex himself didn’t know why.

“Muchacho never got a ‘B’!” Angelica exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air in frustration.

Maria shook her head, placing a hand on Angelica’s chair. “He got a ‘C’ in the gym once… I had to talk him off the fire escape.”

Angelica groaned, covering her face in her hands before she slowly removed her hands from her face and snapped her fingers. “Maybe the pressure cooker couldn’t take it, and pah, the lid flew off!”

Maria shrugged. “But why? I mean, what the hell happened?”

Angelica exhaled loudly. “I don’t know…” Peggy joined in as well, finally coming back over to them from where she’d been looking out the window.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Maria and Peggy said together, acquiescing to the fact that this would just remain an unsolved mystery.

Angelica sighed again and all three ladies looked at each other. “Qué sé yo?”

John fumbled with his tie in the mirror as Eliza counted the lottery tickets and Philip messed around with the slushie machine. John turned to Eliza. “Does my tie look straight?”

Eliza leveled him with an unamused look, rolling her eyes. “John, you look the same everyday. Stop trying to impress Alex.”

John sputtered and threw his arms in the air as Philip sniffed under John’s arm, practically jumping away. “Oye, you need to impress some Old Spice under those arms.” Philip pinched his nose and John lightly punched him in the shoulder.

“Shut up. My boss put me on the dispatch, I need to look professional.”

Philip put quotation marks around ‘my boss’ lowering his voice to mock John’s pitch. “ ‘my boss, my boss’. You’re paving the road to someone else’s dreams. Man, strike out on your own.”

John looked up at Eliza to defend him, but Eliza remained solely focused on the lottery tickets, running her finger over the numbers. John reluctantly turned back to Philip. “I’m learning—” he glared at Philip, “—on someone else's dime. When I open John’s Art Studio, I’ll know how to run a business and be professional.” Philip was clearly unconvinced, as he trudged off to get his slushie.

“Hey,” Eliza spoke up. “Anyone of you Rockefellers want to take over this business?” 

“Hell no.”

“Naw, I’m cool.”

Eliza nodded smugly. “That’s what I thought.”

John was about to say something when the neighborhood vandal, Graffiti Patsy, walked in, brandishing a t-shirt. “Yo,” she said, waving the t-shirt around. “Buy my t-shirt.”

Eliza snorted and glared at Graffiti Patsy. “That’s your sales pitch? Get the hell out of here.” Eliza pointed to the open door.

But Graffiti Patsy was not deterred. She continued on. “Today’s special: two for twenty.”

Eliza glared at her with more ferocity. “How about I give you nothing and you scrub your initials off my awning.” John smirked and sent Eliza a thumbs up.

Before Eliza could yell at Graffiti Patsy more, Philip walked up to her, handing her a slushie cup then going to look at the lottery tickets. “Philip’s secret recipe,” he called. Graffiti Patsy nodded her head and took a drink.

“That’s a dollar twenty-five,” Eliza said, raising her eyebrows challengingly.

It took most of John’s willpower not to laugh. He loved Eliza, she was his best friend, but she was not even mildly threatening in the slightest. It was always hilarious to see Eliza try and act like she was threatening.

Graffiti Patsy shook her head. “Let’s trade. I got some roman candles, bottle rockets. Third of July, the party starts tonight!” 

“Contraband, vandalism.” Eliza counted on her fingers. “You got three seconds before I call the cops. Nine… one…” 

Graffiti Patsy scampered off, taking the slushie cup with her.

Philip suddenly looked up from the lottery tickets. “Eliza, check this.”

Eliza raised an eyebrow, but she complied nonetheless. “Take Five Lotto…” Eliza paused and John saw her eyes scan over a certain line a few times. “Hold up, we sold a winner yesterday?”

John turned to fully face Eliza. “We sold the winner?” And it was yesterday? John had never been more glad that he’d decided to splurge on a lottery ticket the previous day.

“Yo, I caught it. I want a cut of your cut,” Philip said. Eliza shook her head.

“I don’t get a cut.” She glanced at another piece of paper and held the lottery tickets and the paper up. “Yup, these numbers match.”

John whistled. “What’s the payout? Please don’t say it’s just some five hundred dollars.” Not that I wouldn’t like five hundred dollars, John thought, redirecting his focus back to Eliza just in time to see her eyes widen almost comically.

“Ninety six thousand.”

“Damn…” John whistled, peeking over Eliza’s shoulder at the paper with the payout on it.

“Ninety six thousand,” Eliza repeated, almost breathless.

Philip spoke up, his voice quiet. “Dollars? Holler.”

“Ninety six thousand…” Eliza repeated, placing a hand over her forehead like she might faint.

John smiled wide. “Yo, somebody won!”

Eliza slowly started to smile. “Ninety six thousand…” 

“Yo, if I won the lotto tomorrow, well, I know I wouldn’t bother goin’ on no spendin’ spree. I’d pick an art school and pay the entrance fee! Then maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll stay friends with me! I’ll be an artist, richer than Alex’s daddy! Donald Trump and I on the links, and he’s my caddy! My money’s makin’ money, I’m goin’ from po’ to mo’ dough! Keep the bling, I want the brass ring, like Frodo,” John said. When he finished, Eliza rolled her eyes.

“Oh no, here goes Mr. Braggadocio,” Eliza said, leaning against the counter. “Next thing you know, you’re lying like Pinocchio.”

John raised his hands. “Yo, if you’re scared of the bull, stay out the rodeo.”

“Yo, I got more hoes than a phonebook in Tokyo!” Graffiti Patsy cut in, causing John to jump. He wondered when she had returned.

Eliza whistled lowly. “Ooh, you better stop rappin’, you not ready. It’s gonna get hot and heavy and you already sweaty—”

“Yo-yo-yo! Yo!”

Eliza raised an eyebrow. “Yo! I’m sorry is that an answer? Shut up, go home, and pull ya damn pants up.” Eliza turned to John as Philip led Graffiti Patsy out of the Bodega. “As for you, Mr. Frodo of the Shire, ninety six G’s ain’t enough to retire.”

John rolled his eyes and strolled over to Eliza, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her outside. “C'mon, I’ll have enough to knock your ass off its axis.”

Eliza ducked out from under John’s arm, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’ll have a knapsack full of jack after taxes,” she pointed out.

Philip ran around the neighborhood, his face flushed with the heat and his heart beating fast with the excitement. “Ninety six thousand!” he yelled to Abuelo who placed a hand over his heart.

“Ay, alabanza!”

Philip ran to the salon next. “Someone won the lottery! They pay out is ninety six thousand,” Philip cried. Angelica and Peggy gasped.

“No me diga.”

Over in the other corner of the salon, Maria groaned loudly, taking a sip of coffee. “I never win shit!”

Philip let out a short laugh before he took off back to the bodega, crying out, “Ninety six thousand!”

People gasped and John smiled and turned to Eliza. “For real, though, imagine how it would feel goin’ real slow, down the highway of life with no regrets. And no breakin’ your neck for respect or a paycheck. For real, though, I’ll take a break from the wheel and we’ll throw the biggest block party, everybody here.” Eliza huffed out a laugh. “It’s a weekend when we can breathe, take it easy.”

All around the neighborhood, Angelica could hear people calling family and friends, asking them to check their ticket.

“Check one two three, what would you do with ninety six G’s?” Peggy asked, coming up to Angelica and placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Who me?”

Peggy leaned down and lowered her voice. “I mean if it’s just between you and me…”

“Esa pregunta es tricky,” Angelica answered and Peggy nodded rapidly.

“I know!”

“With ninety six G’s,” Angelica began, “I’d start my life with a brand new lease. Atlantic City with a Malibu Breeze.”

“And a brand new weave,” Peggy interrupted, running a hand through her curls.

Angelica frowned and looked down at her hair. “Or maybe just bleach…”

Maria passed them on her way out the door, a grin on her face. “Y’all are freaks.,” she called over her shoulder as she walked out the door. Angelica and Peggy locked gazes and rolled their eyes.

Eliza sighed. As excited as she was that someone had won the lottery, even more so at the prospect that she might’ve won the lottery, Eliza was trying to stay level headed and not get her hopes up. 

She sighed and turned to John and Philip. “Yo, I’m just sayin’... It’s silly when we get into these crazy hypotheticals. You really want some bread? Then go ahead, create a set of goals, and cross them off the list as you pursue ‘em. And with those ninety six, I know precisely what I’m doin’!”

Someone tapped her on the shoulder and Eliza just about squealed when she saw that it was Maria. Maria crossed her arms over her chest. “Whatchu doin’?”

Eliza opened her mouth then immediately closed it before opening it again. Come on, Eliza, get it together, she scolded herself.

“What’m I doin? What’m I doin? It takes most of that cash just to save my ass from financial ruin. Philip can keep the coffee brewin’. I’ll spend a few on you, ‘cause the only room with a view is a room with you in it.” Maria flushed at that and Eliza counted that as a win. “And I could give Abuelo Mulligan the rest of it. Just fly me down to Sanya beach, I’ll make the best of it!” Eliza turned to Philip. “You really love this business?”

Philip shook his head. “No.”

Eliza shrugged and pulled the Bodega’s keys out of her pocket and tossed them to Philip. “Tough, Merry Christmas. You’re now the youngest tycoon in Jackson Hiznits.”

Philip tossed the keys back to her and rolled his eyes, jumping up onto Abuelo’s steps. “Yo! With ninety six thousand, I’d finally fix housin’. Give the barrio computers with wireless web browsin’. Your kids are livin’ without a good edjumication, change the station, teach 'em about gentrification. The rent is escalatin’.”

Graffiti Patsy called out a “What?” And Eliza wondered if they’d rehereased this.

“The rich are penetratin’.”

“What?”

“We pay our corporations when we should be demonstratin’.”

“What?”

“What about immigration?”

“What?”

“Politicians be hatin’.”

“What?!”

“Racism in this nation’s gone from latent to blatant.”  
The block oohed and awed as Philip jumped over the railing back onto the pavement. “I’ll cash my ticket and picket, invest in protest. Never lose my focus, 'til the city takes notice. And you know this, man! I'll never sleep because the ghetto has a million promises for me to keep!”

Maria walked over to Philip and grabbed his cheeks, kissing them and squeezing his cheeks. “You are so cute!”

Philip backed away slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I was just thinking off the top of my head.”

Eliza walked over to Maria and tapped her arm. “Ninety six K, go.”

Maria turned and glanced up at the sky. “If I win the lottery, you’ll never see me again.” She turned to smile at Eliza and Eliza shook her head.

“Damn, we only jokin, stay broke then.” Maria giggled and continued. 

“I’ll be downtown. I’ll get a nice studio, I'll get out of the barrio. If I win the lottery, you’ll wonder where I’ve been.”

John walked over to Eliza and tugged her arm, “For real, though imagine how it would feel goin’ real slow, down the highway of life with no regrets. And no breakin’ your neck for respect or a paycheck.”

Eliza nodded. That would be nice.

Maria turned back to Eliza and John. “I’ll be downtown. See you around. If I win the lottery, you won’t see a lot of me! I’ll be downtown. See you around!”

Eliza smiled and turned to speak to John and Maria. “Yo! It’s silly when we get into these crazy hypotheticals, you really want some bread? Then go ahead, create a set of goals, and cross 'em off the list as you pursue ‘em. And with those ninety-six I know precisely what I’m doin’” People all around the block started talking.

“We drop the mama drama. We’ll stop at the Bahamas!”

“Between you and me, we rock the hot Impala.”

Eliza smiled and ran a hand through her hair. “We could pay off the debts we owe.”

“We could tell everyone we know!” Angelica called from the salon.

“I could get on a plane and go,” Eliza whispered, thinking of a nice beach with pina coladas that never stopped coming.

“Ninety six thousand!” People whispered all around the neighborhood as they dispersed and hurried back to their jobs. Eliza and Philip headed to the Bodega, John to the dispatch booth, Maria to the salon, and Graffiti Patsy hurried off to find another alleyway to mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and have a nice day. Also, I’d just like to say thank you for the kudos, it’s very nice.  
> Just a reminder: updates every Monday, Thursday, and Saturday.  
> Have a nice day!
> 
> (Also, don’t feel pressured to leave comments or Kudos, but it would be nice.)


	5. At the Top of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paciencia y fe-Piragua  
> (Also, more Alex and John flirting.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter!

Alex sighed as him and his mom marched over to Eliza’s bodega. Mom turned to face Alex, her purse slamming against her hip as she did. “Call your father, Alex. He was supposed to come help me, but he’s not picking up.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “We’re fine. We have all afternoon.”

Mom glared at him. “We are not fine.” She stormed inside Eliza’s bodega and Alex felt like he'd been slapped in the face. Mom was right. They weren’t fine. And it was all Alex’s fault. He took a deep breath and followed his mom inside the bodega.

On the steps to his house, Abuelo Mulligan sighed loudly, fanning himself. “Ay, que calor.” He hobbled down the steps as Eliza hurried over. “Eliza! Ooo-oo!”

Eliza frowned at the edge of the steps, her eyebrows knitted together tightly. “You were off pitch. What’s wrong?” She climbed a few steps and placed a hand on Mulligan’s arm.

Mulligan rolled his eyes and smiled at sweet, kind Eliza. Always so eager to be of assistance. “It’s the heat.” He suddenly remembered and dove into his pocket, producing a wrapped tuna sandwich. “Here, your tuna sandwich.”

Eliza took it tentatively, her lips pursed. “Thanks. You know, Abuelo, you already brought me one. Right?”

Mulligan patted Eliza’s shoulder as Eliza walked him down the stairs. “Really?” He shook his head. “My memory goes two miles an hour, you know. I’m going for a walk, I need some fresh air.”

Eliza nodded and produced from her pocket a little brown bag. She gingerly placed it into Mulligan’s hands. “Breadcrumbs for your birds. Stay in the shade, please?”

Mulligan nodded, cupping Eliza’s cheek. You needn’t worry about me, Eliza, he thought. It’s been an extraordinary day.

“I should stop by Padre Moore’s church and light a few candles,” Mulligan thought out loud. Eliza nodded and glanced over her shoulder at the store, her smile drooping only slightly as she did.

“Light one for my broken grate.” Mulligan nodded and Eliza huffed. “I gotta go call the mechanic about that thing.” Eliza shrugged as if to say, what can you do? She turned back to Mulligan. “It’s like you always say, Abuelo, patience and faith.”

Mulligan smiled down at Eliza. “Paciencia y fe.”

Eliza nodded and, with a farewell wave, she hurried back to the bodega.

Mulligan watched her go. Once she was inside, he began walking, throwing breadcrumbs for the birds he passed by. As he glanced at the sky, he thought of his mother.  
“Ay Mamá, the summer’s hottest day,” Mulligan whispered quietly, his eyes still on the brilliant blue sky. Mulligan took a breath and forced himself to remember his motto.

Paciencia y fe. Paciencia y fe.

“Ay, carajo, it’s hot,” Mulligan finally groaned, wiping his head with his bandana. But it was okay.

Mulligan smiled as he remembered his home in La Víbora. It was so much hotter at home in La Víbora. Then again, Mulligan hadn’t been to La Víbora in over sixty years. He smiled as he passed people hurrying past him.  
A crowded city of faces the same as his. La Víbora was essentially the Jackson Heights of Havana. And Mulligan loved both La Víbora and Jackson Heights with all his heart. However, he hadn’t always loved the city.

In La Víbora you could always see the beautiful stars. Cassiopeia had been Mulligan’s favorite. In New York, you couldn’t see past the streetlights. 

Mulligan remembered the nights in La Víbora, the anger in the streets, hunger in the windows, the women folding clothes. Mulligan recalled playing with his friends in the summer rain… 

He recalled his small house. In retrospect, he knew now that his mother had desperately needed a job. Then, though, all he registered was when his Mama said they were poor. And, one day, his mother had packed up their one suitcase of possessions and said, "Vamos a Nueva York..."

And now he was wide awake, but a million years too late to do anything. To tell his mother thank you for her sacrifices. To help her.

As he fed the birds, he talked to her, imagining what she’d do. Remembering what they went through… 

He remembered being fresh off the boat in America, freezing in early December in the New York Harbor, a crowded city in 1943. Learning the ropes in America, struggling with English, and dropping out of school to help pay rent.

That’s where his motto was born. He’d say it every night before he went to sleep. Paciencia y fe. Things would get better. They had to. He just had to be patient and have faith.

The memories flooded Mulligan as he started walking back to his block. Sharing double beds, trying to catch a break, listening to friends, finally getting a job working as a tailor. So they’d fixed some clothes, embroidering with pride, mending the whole of the Upper East Side.

Despite the fact that Mulligan had always told himself he’d return home to La Víbora one day, the days turned into weeks, the weeks into years, and he’d stayed.  
And, as Mulligan reached for a final handful of breadcrumbs, his hands shook with joy and fear. He looked up at the sky, his heart about breaking as he spoke. “Ay Mamá, what do you do when your dreams come true? I’ve spent my life inheriting my dreams from you.”

Mulligan took a deep breath and slowly pulled the winning lottery ticket everyone had made such a fuss about out of his shirt pocket. “What do I do with this winning ticket?” he mumbled, tears slipping down his cheeks.

“What can I do but pray?”

Mulligan took a deep breath, wiped his cheeks, and put the lottery ticket back into his pocket. He’d talk to Eliza and Philip later. For now he’d buy his loaf of bread, go home and get ready for Alex’s diner, and he’d continue with his day.

He looked up at the sky and imagined how happy his mother would’ve been had this happened twenty years ago. It was much too late now to do anything to help her, but he could make the best of his life.

Mulligan hoped that’s what his mother would want.

And, as Mulligan turned around onto the next block, he smiled. Paciencia y fe.

Alex hesitantly climbed up the steps to Abuelo Mulligan’s house, knocking on the door. No answer. Alex frowned and rang the doorbell. No answer. Alex sighed and plopped down on the steps up to Abuelo’s house, his head resting on his hands.

Philip strolled out of the Bodega and abruptly stopped, smiling and changing direction to walk over to Alex. “Well, well, well,” he said, crossing his arms and setting the box he was holding down. “Alex Hamilton-Washington. I think we both know what time it is.”

Alex quirked an eyebrow. “Your bedtime?”

Philip rolled his eyes and leaned against the railing. “No. It’s time for you to open that wounded soul up to Philip.” Philip patted his chest and Alex laughed.

And admit my failure to you as well? Alex thought, shaking his head. No, thank you.

Instead of saying that, he shook his head again. “It’s tempting.”

Philip nodded as if saying, I know. Then he started talking again. If Alex wasn’t trying so hard to drown out his inner demons, he would’ve been annoyed at Philip’s insistence upon talking to someone who clearly didn’t want to talk to him.

“You need a welcome home slushie.” Alex cocked his head to the side and Philip kept going. “Two parts blue raspberry, one part cherry cola, and, check this out, I mix in some nerds at the end.” Philip kissed the ends of his fingertips. “Mm.”

That sounded frankly disgusting to Alex, but he was saved from answering by John leaving the dispatch. “It’s all you, Louis,” he called inside the shop before stepping out, his hands in his pockets.

Alex waved and John’s face lit up and he hurried over to Alex. Alex held up a finger and turned to Philip. “Can I get a raincheck on that slushy?”

Philip rolled his eyes and mimed gagging, grabbing the box he’d set down. “One day, you’ll both need my sympathy, and will I be there?” Philip faltered. “Probably.” Alex let out a sharp laugh and Philip stormed off as fast as he could with a heavy box.

John smiled and gestured at the step Alex was sitting on. “Is this step taken?” 

Alex shook his head, maybe a bit too enthusiastically, and scooted over. “So, did you learn some more curse words?” Alex asked, nudging John’s shoulder.

John sputtered, his face turning a light crimson. “It’s like trying to learn two languages. Dominican Spanish and Puerto Rican Spanish.” John sighed and Alex patted his hand sympathetically.

“I hear you. They spoke a different kind of English at Stanford.” Alex laughed to himself. Even though he tried to be sophisticated, he remembered his posh roommate literally gasping when he’d used a slang term.

“Really?” 

Alex nodded. “ ‘Weekend,’ Verb. To go skiing at your cabin on Lake Tahoe.” John let out a snort of laughter. “ ‘Cabin,’ Noun. A blase term for ‘mansion’.”

John smiled brightly. “You need to teach them some new vocabulary.”

Alex nodded. “Oh, I did. Everyday in the cafeteria I was like, “Oye, you need some fries with that?”

John grinned wider and raised his hand in a toast like motion. “To not speaking a language.” Alex smiled and knocked his shoulder against John’s.

Alex took a deep breath and looked out at the nearly deserted block except for a few people playing a radio. “I used to think we lived at the top of the world,” Alex recounted with a laugh. “When the world was just a subway map. And the one-slash-nine, climbed a dotted line to my place.”

John nudged his shoulder. “There’s no nine train now.”

Alex flushed. “Right,” he corrected himself.

“I used to think the Bronx was a place in the sky. When the world was just a subway map. And my thoughts took shape—”

John interrupted Alex to point at Alex’s old fire escape. “On that fire escape…” John finished for him. Alex nodded and looked up at the fire escape, nostalgia for something he didn’t know flooding through him.

He turned to John. “Can you remind me of what it was like? At the top of the world?” Alex sighed when John did nothing. But, to his surprise, John suddenly jumped up, holding out his hand for Alex to take.

“Come with me.” John beckoned for Alex to take his hand and Alex did. And, luckily, before he could turn into a stuttering mess, John pulled him along down the block.

“We begin July with a stop at my corner fire hydrant.” John gestured to the old yellow fire hydrant and Alex laughed.

“You would open it every summer.”

John nodded and leaned down, mimicking busting open the fire hydrant. “I would bust it with a wrench till my face got drenched, till I heard the sirens. Then I ran like hell!”

Alex nodded, glancing at John again. “You ran like hell.” He smiled. “I remember well.”

John grabbed Alex’s hand and hurried him over to the Dispatch Center. “To your father’s dispatch window, “Hey, let me in, yo! They’re coming to get me!”

Alex nodded, glancing inside the dispatch window. He remembered sitting in there, reading, when John would run in, crouching behind the chairs. “You were always in constant trouble!” To be fair, Alex was too. He was just more adept at hiding his mischief.

“Then your dad would act all snide, but he’d let me hide. You’d be there inside—”

“Life was easier then…”

John suddenly grabbed Alex’s hand and turned him so they were facing each other. “Alex, everything is easier, when you’re home… The street’s a little kinder when you’re home. Can’t you see that the day seems clearer, now that you are here or is it me?” John slowly let go of Alex’s hands.

John rubbed the back of his neck and averted his eyes. “Maybe it’s just me…”

And, before Alex could say anything, John was smiling again and he beckoned Alex to follow him. “We gotta go, I wanna show you all I know. The sun is setting and the light is getting low.”

Alex beamed and grabbed John’s wrist to get his attention. “Are we going to Castle Garden?”

John shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Maybe, maybe not, but way to take a shot, when the day is hot, I got a perfect shady spot a little ways away that oughta cool us down.”

“Cool us down,” Alex repeated quietly.

John met Alex’s gaze and looked away shyly. “Welcome back to town.”

Alex looked around, trying to find anything to make John smile, when suddenly it came to him. “Now, back in high school, when it darkened, you’d hang out in Bennett Park and—”

John looked up and nodded, his smile returning and lighting up his freckled face. “Eliza would bring her radio.”

Alex nodded and swore he almost felt seventeen again. Young, scrappy, and hungry, free from the chains of failure. He brushed the thought away and continued. “As I walked home from Senior Studies, I’d see you rapping with your buddies.”

“With the volume high.”

“I walked on by.”  
A little ways away, a group of guys were playing music. John inclined his head in their direction and Alex followed him. The guys gestured to the radio and John turned it up, grabbing Alex’s hand and spinning him.

Alex couldn’t help but smile. He’d never felt more free. He hadn’t felt this happy and carefree in months.  
John kept his grasp on Alex’s hand even after he’d finished spinning him and led him over back to where they’d started at Abuelo’s stoop. 

“When you’re home.” John turned to Alex. “The summer nights are cooler when you’re home.”

Alex looked up at John and squeezed his hand. “Now that you’re here with me.”

“And that song you are hearing is the neighborhood just cheering you along,” John said, gesturing at the guys dancing around their radio.

Alex felt himself pale and he gently pulled his hand out of John’s. “Don’t say that…”

John frowned and took a step forward. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t say that!” Alex yelled, stepping back and beginning to pace. “When I was younger, I’d imagine what would happen if my parents had stayed in Puerto Rico. Who would I be if I had never seen Manhattan? If I lived in Puerto Rico with my people… My people!” Alex took a shallow breath and continued. “I feel like all my life I’ve tried to find the answer. Working harder, learning Spanish, learning all I can. I thought I might find the answer out at Stanford,” —Alex slowly stopped pacing and instead looked up to look the sky— “but I’d stare out at the sea, thinking, where’m I supposed to be?” Alex turned to John.

“So, please, don’t say you’re proud of me when I’ve lost my way.”

Alex sighed deeply and looked down, wiping the stray tear that had somehow made its way down his cheek. John was silent for a long moment.

Eventually, he breathed in heavily. “Then can I say: I couldn’t get my mind off you all day.” John turned and grabbed Alex’s hands, his face no more than an inch or two away from Alex’s. “Now listen to me! That may be how you perceive it, but, Alex, please believe that when you find your way again, you’re gonna change the world! And, then, we’re all gonna brag and say we knew him when this was your home.”

Alex smiled and looked up at John. “I’m home. When you’re here with me.”

John was practically all smiles as he said a simple, “Welcome home.” And, although he probably wouldn’t believe it, he didn’t know how much that meant to Alex.

“I used to think that we lived at the top of the world!”

“You’re finally home,” John said, squeezing Alex’s hand.

Alex nodded. “I’m home.”

John squeezed his hand once more before they split ways to get ready for Alex’s dinner. And, despite the fact that he’d been dreading the dinner all day, and still was, Alex couldn’t stop smiling.

And, although he didn’t know it, neither could John.

The Piragua Man strolled down the block once more as the sun went down. “Piragua, piragua. New block of ice, piragua. Piragua, piragua, so sweet and nice, piragua. J'ai la mangue. J'ai un patch. Ananas et fraise! J'ai de la porcelaine, du citron! Lourd et peseta, hé!” Lafayette rang the bell on his cart.

“Piragua, piragua. New block of ice, piragua. Piragua, piragua, so sweet and nice, piragua.” He took a deep breath and wiped his forehead.

It was hotter than the Islands today, and Lafayette simply wasn’t ready. It had never gotten even close to this hot in Paris. But Lafayette loved America, and this was his town.

Sure, Mister Softee was trying to shut him down, but this was his town and he’d keep scraping by by the fading light. He’d keep scraping by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Thank you, again, for the kudos, and have a nice day!  
> Updates every Monday, Thursday, and Saturday.  
> Have a nice day!
> 
> (Also, don’t feel pressured to leave comments or Kudos, but it would be nice.)


	6. I’m Fine, I’m Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Club-Blackout  
> (Also, Lams and some Marliza.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Fourth of July, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Alex took a deep breath as he finished setting out the plates on the table. Beside him, Maria was dancing. “Yo,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Tomorrow’s the Fourth of July. It’s time to party!” She walked over to Abuelo Mulligan and grabbed his hands. “Come on, Abuelo. I’ll show you some new moves.”

Abuelo nodded, standing up slowly. “Okay, but no bump and grind.”

Alex stepped back from the plates and observed his work right as his Mom entered the room, her eyes going straight to Alex. She took a step towards him and grabbed his hand.

At Alex’s confused look, Mom pointed at the rado. “It’s my song.”

Alex looked away from his Mom guiltily, instead focusing on the radio directly behind her. “We really don’t have to,” he mumbled.

Mom rolled her eyes, spinning Alex. “Yes, we do. I dance best when I’m angry.” Alex winced and sighed, placing a hand on her hip and swaying to the music, which Mom was humming along to.

Abuelo Mulligan pulled back from Maria, shaking his head. “Too much nalgas, Maria. Be subtle. Pretend… pretend you’re dancing on a tiny brick.”

Maria rolled her eyes, “Nah, Abuelo.” And she bent down to wag her hips. “I shake my ass.”

Abuelo Mulligan rolled his eyes, hobbling over to the table and sitting down in a chair, observing Alex and his Mom’s stilted dancing. Eventually, Mom pulled back and began dancing by herself.

“Estarás en mis recuerdos para siempre…” The singer on the record sang softly. And, as a result of a clumsy thirteen year old Eliza, the record skipped, repeating lines.

“Para siempre… para siempre,” Mom sang along, nodding her head along with the music. Once the record scratch ended and the song continued, Mom turned it off. “The scratch in the record is my favorite part.”

Just as she said that, Eliza and John entered. “Man, did we miss the record scratch?” Eliza asked, closing the door behind her.

“Put the music back on!” John said, his eyes flitting around the room before they landed on Alex and he smiled. Alex waved at him.

“Bueno,” Mom said hesitantly, pulling out another record, “but not encores! Show up late, you miss the hot stuff.”

Eliza rolled her eyes and set a bottle of champagne on the table. “New Zealand Shiraz. Vintage 2008.”

John stepped out from behind Eliza and set out a glass dish with foil on top. “Some guava pastry for dessert, courtesy of Mama Laurens.”

Alex sent John a smile and watched as Eliza hurried over to Abuelo Mulligan, kissing his cheek. “Bendicion,” she said.

Abuelo Mulligan squeezed her hands. “God bless you! Alabanza! We have to talk later…” Eliza nodded slowly and turned to Maria.

“So, West Village, do I owe you a bottle of cold champagne?”

Maria frowned. “The landlord saw my credit application and laughed. Out loud.”

Alex took a step towards Maria and took her hand. “Screw him,” he said, squeezing her hand comfortingly. “It wasn’t the right place for you.”

Maria shook her head. “No, there was exposed brick!... On purpose, not because the walls were all busted up!”

Alex rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around Maria’s waist. “Don’t worry about that.” Suddenly, Alex got an idea. “We should all go dancing later!”

John shrugged from where he was sitting beside Eliza. “If there’s AC, I’m there.” He turned to Eliza. “You in?”

Eliza bit her lip and smiled haughtily. “Actually, Maria and I have plans later, so—”

Before Eliza could finish her thought, Maria interrupted. “Yeah! Come with us! The more friends the better right?” Maria’s voice rose an octave as she spoke.

Eliza nodded from where she had started staring at her shoes. “You know it, friend.”

From the corner of his eye, Alex could see John patting Eliza’s shoulder.

Thankfully, before the situation could grow any more awkward, Dad walked in, smiling wide. “The west side highway was bumper to bumper!”

Mom smiled and walked over to George, kissing him. “There you are.”

John cleared his throat and Dad’s smile dropped. “How’s it going, Boss?” John asked, his hands in his pockets.

Eliza snickered. “El jefe.” John sent her a glare.

Maria looked up and smiled. “How’s it going, Mr. Rosario?”

Abuelo Mulligan smiled wide. “Look over there! That handsome man.”

Dad smiled and walked over to Abuelo, kissing his head. “It’s my beautiful prince!”

Alex cleared his throat. “Hey, Dad?”

Dad’s face, to Alex’s shock, brightened and he nodded. “Excuse me. You’re the prince. Mulligan is the King.”

Mom placed her hands on her hips. “And what does that make me?”

Dad stepped back. “The dictator.” He stepped forward to kiss her again.

Mom smiled up at him. “Damn straight.” She then turned to address the room at large. “One day, I’ll open my own Restaurante Boricua! Until then, you’re all my guinea pigs.” She gestured to the door leading into the kitchen. “Serve yourselves. Plates are in the kitchen.”

Everyone jumped up to go to the kitchen, but Dad spoke up, grabbing Alex’s hand before he could get far. “Listen up everyone. Attencion.”

Mom’s smile dropped. “Let’s eat first, the food’s gonna get cold.”

Dad rolled his eyes. “Martha, the ham can wait five minutes.” Dad patted his chest and cleared his throat. “Twenty seven years ago, in Arecibo, Puerto Rico, I threw down my shovel, hitched a ride into town, and bought two plane tickets to New York. I shoved up at Martha’s house with a packed suitcase and told her, “let’s go.”

“The whole plane ride, I was trying not to cry,” Mom elaborated, which caused everyone to laugh. Alex laughed too, but he couldn’t help but wonder what the point of this was.

Dad rolled his eyes. “The whole plane ride you were drinking Bacardi,” Dad corrected.

Mom gasped. “Have you no shame?”

Dad kept going. “We were Alex’s age. And now look at you.” Alex flushed. Dad continued speaking. “You make me proud to be a Washington. So, today, I threw down my shovel again, and I hitched a ride to town. I took another leap of faith. Alex, I sold the business to pay for your tuition.”

Alex felt his stomach drop to his feet and his eyes widened as the room was rendered silent. “What?” Alex asked quietly, silently begging for this to be some sick joke.

His dad smiled proudly. “I sold Washington’s. You’re going back to Stanford.” Alex’s head spun and he wondered if he might faint.

His mom finally spoke up. “George, this had better be a joke.”

George turned his head to address her, still holding Alex’s hands. “Uptown Investment takes over next week.”

Mom stepped back, her hand over her chest. “Uptown? Ay dios mio, they offered us nothing!”

Dad shrugged, finally letting go of Alex’s hand, causing him to stumble. “It was enough, mi vida.”

Alex pressed a hand against his head. “Wait, Dad… I’ll find a job! I can take night classes.”

His Dad’s smile was finally replaced with a frown. “What? So you can end up just another nobody stuck in el barrio?” He glanced at Maria.

Maria jumped up out of her chair, her face contorting with rage. “Hey! Why you gotta look at me when you say that?”

From across the room, John asked the question that Alex had been waiting for. “Yo, did I just lose my job?”

Mom shook her head. “Of course you didn’t.” She turned to George. “I do the payroll, the banking, your chaotic papers. We worked twenty years to build this company. I worked!”

Dad rubbed his temples. “For what Martha? Twenty years for what?” Alex could hear his Dad’s unsaid words. For what? For our son to fail even though we could’ve helped him?

Alex was grateful that those words remained unsaid. He thought he might’ve just cried if they hadn’t.

“What about your employees?” Alex asked, his voice taught with anxiety. Alex couldn’t help but think of John.

“You can’t just kick up to the curb,” John said, looking up from his hands.

“Your drivers are half my customers.” Eliza pointed out. Alex felt like he was going to be sick.

Look what's happened, he thought. All because you couldn’t get through one year of college.

Dad raised his hands in the air. “I’m not a welfare office! Family comes first, above everything.”

John’s eyebrows furrowed. “The day you hired me, you said I was family.”

Dad rolled his eyes. “That’s business.” He pointed at Alex. “This is my son.”

Mom stepped out from behind Dad. “You are all my family, and you have my word.” She turned to Dad. “We are not selling Washington’s.”

Dad glared. “I’m making the damn deal.”

“This is our business!”

“It was in my name,” Dad shouted back.

“Dinner is over!” Mom yelled and stormed out of the room, slamming the door loudly behind her.

“Mom…” Alex said weakly.

Maria stood up. “Excuse me. I’m not good enough to sit with the bourgeoisie.” Maria suddenly grabbed the champagne Eliza had brought and stormed out.

Eliza hurried over to help Abuelo Mulligan up. “Con permiso,” he said, waving goodbye.

“Come on, Abuelo,” Eliza muttered, hurrying him out the door.

Alex watched them leave before hurrying over to a shell shocked John. “John, I’ll fix this, I promise—”

“Alex, stay away from him,” Dad snapped, glaring daggers at John. John nodded and stepped back.

“I’ll get out of your way.”

He left the room without even sparing a single glance at Alex.

Alex took a deep breath, digging his nails into his palm. “You know I will never touch that money.”

“So help me god, Alex, you are going back to Stanford.”

Alex shook his head and stomped out of the apartment. Before he closed the door behind him, he could hear his Dad calling his name, but he didn’t care.

He just needed to get out.

The music was pounding as Eliza and Maria walked into the club. “Maria!” People cheered and Maria waved as she walked into the club.

“Damn, this is nice,” Eliza said, watching as a girl hugged Maria. “I really like what they’ve done with the lights. So, the hot club in Jackson Heights. You might be right, this music’s tight. Yo, did I mention that you look great tonight? Because you do, you really—”

Maria turned to Eliza and grabbed her arm, rubbing soothing circles into Eliza’s forearm. “Eliza, relax.”

Eliza scoffed. “Relax, qué relaxed? I’m relaxed.” Maria rolled her eyes and held up a finger right as a guy spun her around. Eliza, despite all better judgement, kept blabbing on.

“So you’ve been here before. I don’t go out; I get so busy with the store. Y cada día, it’s a brand new chore. My arms are sore; no time for the dance floor. But maybe you and me should hang out some more? I’m such a dork, but I—”

Maria grabbed Eliza’s arm again, pointing at the bar where John was sitting. “Let’s go get a drink,” Maria proposed. 

Eliza nodded and pointed at Maria. “Something sweet?”

Maria nodded. “You know me, a little bit of cinnamon.”  
Eliza shot her a thumbs up and hurried over to the bar. 

After she ordered the drinks, she turned to John who was sitting by himself, his blazer abandoned, and a shot in his hand. Upon seeing Eliza, John raised his glass. “Here’s to getting fired.”

Eliza rolled her eyes and grabbed her own drink. “To killing the mood.”

They clinked their glasses and drank. “Salud!”

Eliza set her drink down and patted John’s shoulder. She could tell John just wanted to feel bad for himself, and what kind of best friend would she be if she didn’t go along with it? “Without so much as a “thank you!” Eliza exclaimed.

John laughed, but it was humorless. “After five long years…”

They clinked glasses again. “Cheers.”

John exhaled and glanced behind Eliza. “To finally gettin’ Maria…” His eyes dropped to Eliza’s shirt. “Man, fix your collar.”

Eliza leaned back. “Holler!”

John cackled and leaned back against the bar. “To doing shots on a weekend.”

Eliza grabbed Maria’s drink once she saw Maria approaching. “As long as you buy ‘em, l’chaim!”

Maria waved, but, before she could grab her drink, Aaron Burr called out to her. “Hey, you?”

Maria looked around before her eyes settled on Burr. “Who, me?”

Burr nodded. “You wanna dance?”

Maria shook her head, glancing at Eliza. “Naw, man.”

Burr sighed and stepped back. “Okay, I took my chance.”

Maria turned around to take her drink, but Eliza gestured to Burr. “It’s cool, it’s cool. Hey, if you want to.”

Maria’s face darkened. “You don’t mind?” she asked.

Eliza shook her head despite the fact that she did mind. Very much, in fact. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

Maria nodded and walked over to Burr, practically throwing herself into his arms.

John watched the whole exchange. “Yo.”

Eliza turned, trying to tear her eyes away from the sight of Maria grinding on Burr. Maria had wanted to… it was fine. It wasn’t like it was a date… Maria had made that quite clear. “Yo!”

John looked around Eliza. “Who’s Maria talkin’ to?”

Eliza shrugged as if she didn’t know that it was Aaron Burr, the barrio resident ‘ladies man’. As if Angelica hadn’t turned him down multiple times. “Some dude.”

John frowned. “Some dude? That’s fucked up, she’s tryin’ to make you jealous.”

Eliza shook her head. “Jealous, I ain’t jealous, I can take all these fellas, whatever!” And Eliza strolled over to Maria, grabbing her out of Aaron’s arms. 

John watched on from the bar. Logically, John knew he was drunk and probably not giving the best advice, but he really didn’t care. John had never run on logic, anyway. That had always been Alex.

Alex… 

John shook his head. He’d lost his job and it was all Alex’s fault. He took another shot. Screw Alex. And, as he drank, he tried to ignore the thought that reminded him of the way his stomach twisted and turned in the best way possible when Alex was around.

But, unfortunately, John couldn’t hide from his problems forever, and he saw Alex enter the club and scan the room before his eyes landed on John and he walked over, his fingers playing with the spare hair tie on his wrist.  
“John, can we take a walk outside?”

John laughed and twisted around in his chair so he was facing Alex. “And there he is.” The prodigal son.

Alex winced, but he continued on, undeterred. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

John snorted. “Who let you in?” He turned to address the other dispatch boys drinking away their problems. “Yo, this is the guy who cost us our jobs today.”

Alex stepped forward. “I’m gonna make it right!”

John shook his head. He and Alex both knew that once George Washington set his mind to something, there was nothing anyone could do. Even the obstinate Alexander Hamilton-Washington couldn’t change that.

He raised his glass. “A toast to the end of all I know…”

Alex lunged forward to grab the glass, but even drunk, John still had more coordination than Alex did sober. 

“You’ve had enough!” Alex snapped, the poorly contained rage showing on his face.

John ignored the part of him that thought Alex looked more beautiful than ever angry. “Says the guy who has it all.”

Alex stepped back, his hands balling into fists. “That’s not fair.”

And you think it’s fair that I lost my job just because you failed? John thought, standing up. “Well why don’t you run home to daddy? He loves to remind me that I’ll never be good enough for your family… for you…”

Alex’s eyes shined his tears and burned with rage. “You don’t know me!”

“Poor you,” John taunted, taking another sip of his drink.

“I thought you were different…” Alex trailed off, his voice weak and quiet.

John shrugged and raised his drink before downing it in one gulp. “Salud.” And, without another word, he walked off, grabbing the first person he could find to dance with.  
John hoped that Alex was watching.

Eliza sighed from the edge of the dance floor as she watched the guys and girls cheer as Maria was passed around the dancefloor— spinning, grinding, and twirling.

“Maria, let me get the next one! Maria, let me interject some! The way you sweat, the way you flex on the floor, it makes me want you more! Maria, let me get the next one! Maria, let me interject some! The way you sweat, the way you flex on the floor, it makes me want you more!”

Eliza finally sighed and hurried back to the bar to see that John wasn’t there. But Theodosia, Burr’s on-again-off-again girlfriend, was. Eliza climbed onto the stool beside her. “Bartender! Let me get an amaretto sour for this ghetto flower! How are you so pretty? You complete me. You had me at "hello," you know you need me. Truly, madly, deeply, let’s get freaky!” Theo remained silent. “Oh, I get it, you’re the strong and silent type. Well, I’m the China country type, and I can drive you wild all night! But I digress. Say something so I don’t stress?”

Theo cocked her head to the side and placed a hand on Eliza’s thigh. “No hablo inglés.” 

Eliza pumped her fist into the air. “Yes!” She offered her hand to Theo who shrugged, taking Eliza’s hand and allowing herself to be led onto the dancefloor. As Eliza passed Maria, she pretended she didn’t see Maria’s face drop into anger.

Alex found the first guy he could, allowing the guy to spin him around the floor. When he spun past John, he smirked and pretended that he didn’t want to be dancing with John instead.

Maria glared as Eliza passed by her with Theo of all people. Burr, who she was dancing with again, seemed about as pleased about it as Maria was. Right as Maria was about to say something, Burr stomped over to Theo and grabbed her from Eliza, dipping her low.

Maria tried to push away the feeling of abandonment and quickly gave the next girl who came up to her her hand.

John knew this was stupid. But when the guy Alex was dancing on was blatantly ignoring Alex pushing his hands away from certain areas, he knew he couldn’t let it stand. John took a deep breath and walked over to the guy before grabbing him by the collar with practiced skill and punching him in the nose.

Alex yelled out in shock and Graffiti Patsy, of all people, pulled him back right as John pushed the guy forward and left him stumbling.

Maria let out a cry of surprise as she ran to try and get as far away from the fight as possible.

Eliza sprinted to John and pulled him back by the arm, when, suddenly, abruptly, the lights went out.

It was dead silent for a long moment until people started screaming. “Blackout, blackout!” Eliza yelled, losing her grip on John’s arm. She turned to the direction she thought she’d been shoved in. “Yo! I can’t see! Quit shovin’ you son-of-a— It’s an oven, and we gotta back out. This is a blackout! Chill, for real or we’re gonna get killed!” Eliza finally gave up yelling. No one was listening anyway.

Outside, George cursed inside the dispatch booth, thanking God the microphone was battery powered. He raised the speaker to his lips. “Calling all taxis! Taxis! Everyone relax, please.”

John had found his way to the doors and, along with a hundred other people, he pounded on them. “Somebody better open these goddamn doors!”

A few feet away, although they both didn’t know it, Maria pounded on the same doors. “Somebody better open these goddamn doors!” she yelled, fighting the strong urge to fall into a ball on the floor and cry, when the doors opened.

Then it hit her. Where was Eliza?

John stumbled out of the club, his throat burning from yelling. At least outside he could see a little better with the moon guiding him. He glanced up at the sky. Then it hit him. Wait.

John turned around, scanning his eyes over the people leaving the club. 

He had to find Alex.

A few blocks away, Philip stepped outside the Bodega, glancing around the dark, empty block. “What’s going on?” Philip asked quietly, ready to run home, before he remembered the store… the store Eliza had trusted him to watch all alone.

Philip straightened his spine. “I gotta guard the store, make sure that nothing’s going wrong!” He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and texted Eliza. I gotta find Eliza, tell her what is going on, he thought.

Philip glanced around the block that was suddenly crowded with frantic people. Where was Eliza?

John looked around the street with only the moonlight as his guide. “Alex, where’d you go? I can’t find you! Alex, where’d you go? Alex!” John yelled louder into the rapidly emptying street.

He was certainly more sober than before, and all he’d said to Alex came rushing back to him like a tidal wave. Goddamnit, what had he done?

John called for Alex again. He had to make things right.

“Maria! Maria!” Eliza yelled as loud as she could. She hoped to hear Maria calling back, but all she could hear was a frenzied cacophony of panicked voices all around her. She shouldn’t have left her phone at Abuelo’s.

Abuelo… 

“Maria!” Eliza yelled as loud as she could. Nothing. “I’ve gotta go…” Eliza sighed and sent a silent apology to the sky before taking off running with only the moon as her guide to Abuelo Mulligan’s.

“Has anyone seen John?” Alex asked, stopping every person he could. “Has anyone seen John?” 

Maria felt the tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. “Eliza, help me!” Maria cried out pathetically, her voice thickening. “Eliza, help me find my way home! Eliza, help me!” Maria glanced at the time on her phone. There was a blackout, her home was twenty blocks away, and she was in heels. Maria had to get started home. “You left me alone!” she cried out to the sky, her words cutting off at the end with a sob.

Maria started running home.

At the Dispatch Booth, George continued speaking into the microphone to a listless audience. “Please, find Alex! Find Martha! If you see my family, bring them home!” No one responded.

Philip gulped as Graffiti Patsy ran up to him, obviously breathless. “Yo! Yo! They throwin’ bottles in the street! People lootin’ and shootin’. Philip, they wanna see a robbery. We gotta keep movin’!”

Philip shook his head, thinking of Eliza’s sad face if anything happened to the store. “Naw, man, I can’t leave, we gotta guard the store!”

Graffiti Patsy sighed. “They gonna bombard the store until you ain’t got a store no more!”

Philip bit his lip, trying to find any alternative to leaving the store, when suddenly it came to him. “I got a baseball bat on a rack in the back.”

Graffiti Patsy’s eyes widened and she nodded, seemingly catching Philip’s drift. “I got a couple o' Roman candles, we can distract the vandals.”

A group of guys started coming down the block and Philip involuntarily took a step back, grabbing Graffiti Patsy’s arm. “Hey, yo, I see some thugs comin’. Man, we gonna get jacked up…”

Graffiti Patsy shrugged him off. “Gimme a light, I’ll be right back. Back up—”

“Back up!” Philip yelled as Graffiti Patsy dove into her bag.  
The fireworks were beautiful. But Philip didn’t have time to focus on that. He leaned up on his tip toes to pull the grate down. It wouldn’t budge. “No, no, no!” Philip yelled, slamming the grate with his fists.

It was late, thugs were right around the corner, and the grate wouldn’t come down. Philip was powerless.

“Come on, we gotta go!” Graffiti Patsy yelled, tugging on Philip’s shirt.

“I can’t leave the store!” Philip protested. Graffiti Patsy shook her head.

“It’s the store or your life.”  
Philip sent a silent apology to Eliza and started running.

Peggy finally reached her apartment. As soon as she locked the door, she collapsed onto her sofa. Oh god, there was so much panic. The crowd was manic with everybody screaming, shoving, shouting, and slapping. And everyone was frantic. They still were, if the commotion outside was of any indication.

Peggy hoped everyone was okay.

Eliza ran inside Abuelo’s house which was lit up with candles. Eliza raced into the kitchen where Abuelo Mulligan sat at his table, a large checkered bag on the table. “Abuelo, are you alright?”

Abuelo nodded, glancing out the window. “The stars are out tonight…”

Eliza smiled, relieved that he was okay, and sat down across from him. “You’re not alone tonight.”

Abuelo smiled. “I’m not alone tonight.” He looked away from the window and instead at Eliza, taking her hand and sliding the bag on the table over to her. “Eliza, please promise me you’ll guard this with your life.”

Eliza raised one eyebrow and looked inside the bag. She gasped once she did, looking up at Abuelo incredulously.  
“Abuelo, I’ve never seen—”

“This much money in my life!” Abuelo finished with Eliza.

Alex was running, running as fast as he could, when he felt a hand grab his arm. He was about to turn around and punch them, when he heard a familiar voice. “Alex, there you are!”

Alex sighed in relief. It was only John. John. Despite the fact that Alex had been looking for him, now that he was here, he wanted to slap him. Alex jerked his arm out of John’s grasp. “I’ve gotta go!”

John, clearly not taking the hint, grabbed Alex’s hand again. “I’ll get you out of here tonight—”

Alex whirled around the face John, snatching his hand away. “I don’t need anything tonight! I can find my way home without you!” 

Alex turned to go and, as he sprinted off, he heard John whisper, “Without you…”

A few blocks away, Alex froze. What had he done? He didn’t even care about what John had said. They could talk about it later. Then, in that moment? He needed to find John.

A few blocks away from where he’d ran into Alex, John sighed, running a hand through his hair. He should’ve pushed more. He shouldn’t have let Alex go. Then he looked up.

Alex looked up and his eyes met John’s.

John started running.

Alex ran towards John.

John wasn’t sure who leaned in first, but all he knew was that his lips connected with Alex’s and fireworks went off behind them. He wondered if he and Alex’s bodies were supposed to fit together so well.

Alex leaned in closer to John and ran a hand through his hair. As John squeezed Alex’s hip, Alex decided, in that moment, that he never wanted to be anywhere else but in John’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Fourth of July! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and have a nice day. This chapter is the longest one I’ve written so far, too.  
> Anyways, have a nice day! And thank you for the kudos!  
> (Also, don’t feel pressured to leave comments or Kudos, but it would be nice.)


	7. You and I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunrise-Hundreds of Stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter!

John yawned as he sat up in bed, his head pounding. He stretched and smiled once he looked down to see Alex, still asleep in bed beside him. Alex, who looked more beautiful than ever.

John leaned down to kiss the tip of his nose before getting up, putting on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, and going to stand outside on his fire escape. John took a deep breath and looked out over the still dark New York City.

A little ways away, a little frog ribbited. John sighed. He wondered if Eliza would open the Bodega today. John knew she had an emergency gas range… He shrugged.   
That was something he could worry about later. 

Much, much later.

John turned around just in time to see Alex step outside onto the fire escape, rubbing his eyes. “Good morning,” Alex greeted, fumbling with the sleeves on one of John’s old band hoodies.

John smiled and took Alex’s hand, cupping his cheek. “Good morning.” 

Alex leaned his head against John’s chest for a fraction of a second before he pulled back, still holding John’s hand. “Are you ready to try again?”

John took a deep breath and nodded. “I think I’m ready.”

Alex patted John’s hand. “Okay, here we go.” He cleared his throat. “Esquína.”

John bit his lip, racking his brain for the answer. “Corner…”

Alex nodded and pecked his cheek before continuing. “Tienda.”

John rolled his eyes. “Easy. Store.” He’d known that one for years as a consequence of hanging around Eliza’s store as much as he did.

“Bombilla?”

John froze, the answer right on his lips before he closed his mouth. “Lightbulb…?” 

Alex looked up at him. “You’re sure? Absolutely positive?”

John nodded his head slowly. “I’m sure.”

Alex smiled up at him and John’s stomach did a flip. “Three out four. You did alright.”

John leaned down to run a hand through Alex’s hair. “Well teach me a little more…”

Alex nodded and moved in so he was standing closer to John. “Calor?”

“Heat.”

“Anoche?” Alex fumbled with the collar of John’s shirt and a smile erupted on John’s face. It seemed Alex had an inability to be still for more than five seconds.

“Last night,” John answered.

Alex nodded. “Dolor?”

“Pain.”  
Alex cupped John’s cheek. “That’s right.” Alex paused, then he continued. “Llámame?”

John leaned down. “Call me.”

“Azul?”

“Blue.”

“Ámame?”

“Love me,” John whispered, trailing his fingers over the back of Alex’s neck. Alex turned away from John, looking out at the sunrise. When he spoke, his voice was naught more than a whisper.

“Perhaps I do.”

John gently grabbed Alex’s hands and intertwined their fingers. “Well, how do you say “kiss me”?”

Alex giggled. “Bésame.”

“And how do you say “hold me”?”

Alex smiled softly and nestled himself against John’s chest where he was still looking out at the sunrise. “Abrázame.”

John complied, pulling his arms around Alex’s chest. “Al amanecer,” Alex whispered, leaning up slightly to kiss John’s jaw. “At sunrise.”

“Anything at all can happen just before the sunrise,” John said into Alex’s ear, his eyes trailing from Alex to the rising sun across the horizon.

All around the neighborhood, people hesitantly made their way to the block, checking on shops, homes, and carts. Alex and John, safe on John’s fire escape, were, for the time being, immune to all worries but one.

“Alex…” George called hopelessly from inside the dispatch, burying his face in his hands.

“I don’t know what to do,” John admitted quietly, sighing softly. “Now that I’ve found you.”

“Ahora que te encontré,” Alex translated into Spanish, trying to keep his thoughts off anything outside of John’s apartment.

“What will he say?” John asked quietly, anxiety twisting and turning in his stomach at the thought of Mr. Washington’s reaction. “When he sees me around you?”

John shook his head and squeezed Alex’s hands. “So how do you say “help me”?”

Alex turned to face him and wrapped his arms around John’s neck. “Ayúdame.”

John nodded and took a deep breath. “And how do you say “promise me”?”

“Prométeme…”

Alex and John each took a deep breath and said, together, “Promise me, you’ll stay beyond the sunrise. I don’t care at all what people say beyond the sunrise.”

Alex leaned up on his toes to kiss John and John leaned into it, relishing the feel of Alex in his arms. “Promise me you’ll stay,” Alex mumbled once they broke apart, his forehead resting on John’s jaw.

“I’ll stay.” And he meant it.

Eliza and Philip cautiously walked to the Bodega and Eliza felt her face drop once she saw the state of the store. The windows were broken, graffiti paint was everywhere, and items for sale were strewn across the pavement.

Her parents’ store… God, it was a mess.

The Piragua guy strolled by, singing softly and offering Eliza a sympathetic look. “Continuez à marcher le chemin pour toute votre vie.” His voice was low and, maybe it was just Eliza, almost mournful.

Angelica and Peggy gasped from outside the salon and hurried over to where Eliza was standing in the middle of the pavement, her parent’s and her own life’s work strewn all around like it meant nothing at all.

John kissed the top of Alex’s head. “And how do you say “kiss me”?”

“Bésame.…” Alex mumbled, burying his face in John’s neck.

John nodded and repeated what Alex had said, ingraining it into his memory. “Bésame.”

He lightly tipped Alex’s chin up. “And how do you say “always”?” Alex smiled and kissed John again, his lips feather light.

“Para siempre…”

John laughed quietly, thinking of that stupid record that Eliza had dropped all those years ago and that Mrs. Washington loved so much. “Para siempre…”

Alex looked up at him. “I’ll stay beyond the sunrise. Promise me you will too.”

John nodded and pulled Alex tightly to him. “I promise I will stay beyond the sunrise.”

Alex nodded in a satisfactory way and John gently led him back inside. The sun hadn’t fully come up yet, after all. Alex spared one last look outside at the sunrise as they walked inside, whispering, “I will be there… Al amanecer”

“I will be there,” John repeated, closing the door to his fire escape and pulling the curtains shut.

Angelica tutted, pointing at the glass, ripped up awning, and items strewn every which way. “Whoever did this to your store, Eliza, I’m gonna put a jinx on their head.”

Peggy nodded, a scowl on her face. “‘Dito, Angie.” She tentatively stepped forward, placing a hand on Eliza’s arm. “Come on, Eliza, let us help you clean up.” Angelica nodded from beside Peggy in approval.

Eliza shook her head, however, and shrugged off Peggy’s hand on her arm. “Thanks, really, but I’d like to be alone with my broken window.”

Angelica and Peggy nodded. “If there’s anything we can do…” Angelica trailed off and Peggy waved goodbye as they turned to go to the salon and finish packing up.

Philip pushed open the door to the bodega, a broom in his hand. “I cleaned most of the glass up.” He set against the broom on the wall of the store.

Eliza’s eyes scanned the pavement. Her eyes landed on a ripped up dollar and she delicately picked up the two halves. “Recognize this?”

Philip squinted at it then his eyes widened and he winced. “Oh man, the bodega’s first customer…”

Eliza laughed sadly, wondering idly if she could tape it back together and pretend everything was fine. “The first dollar my dad made here.” She sighed and placed it in her pocket and turned to Philip. “Okay, take whatever batteries and candles we have to the Church on Audubon.”

Philip furrowed his eyebrows, taking a step in Eliza’s direction. “You don’t need backup?”

Eliza rolled her eyes. “For what exactly?”

“For your soul!” Philip patted his chest comfortingly. “Dr. Phil said that denial is the first stage of grief.”

That kid watches too much television, Eliza thought, shaking her head. “It’s a stolen register and a ripped up awning. It’s just things. I’ll be fine.”

Eliza hoped she’d be fine. At this point, she really didn’t know.

Behind her, someone cleared their throat. Eliza turned around to see that it was Maria, standing awkwardly with her hands clasped behind her back. Eliza gulped.

“I heard,” Maria said flatly, looking behind Eliza at the mess that was Eliza’s parents’ legacy.

“I still got a gas range,” Eliza said; an invitation that she hoped Maria would take. “I can make you some coffee?”

Maria shook her head before Eliza even finished speaking. “Do you think Dunkin Donuts is open?”

Eliza flinched and called out to Maria before she started walking away to the salon. “Maria, wait!” Maria turned. “Listen, about last night… Philip was texting and calling, Abuelo was alone…”

Eliza knew it was a flimsy excuse. And, by Maria’s unmoved expression, she knew it, too.

Maria shrugged. “Yeah. You know, I walked home twenty blocks in the dark. My phone didn’t ring once all night.” Maria paused. “Nobody cared if I was okay.”

Eliza sighed. She didn’t even have the right to be upset or offended. Eliza had abandoned Maria. And while it was a lie that she didn’t care, Eliza’s actions didn’t demonstrate that.

There was nothing she could do but take it.

So all Eliza said was, “I know.”

Maria nodded and turned to go to the salon. After a few steps she stopped and Eliza’s heart bloomed with hope.  
“You want to know the one thing I can’t stand?” Maria asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Eliza forced out a strained laugh. “A morning without my coffee?”

Maria looked Eliza straight in the eyes as she spoke. “Being left alone.” She threw one more glance at the store. “Sorry about your bodega.”

With that, she hurried off to the salon.

Eliza started at her feet blankly as Graffiti Patsy ran up to 

Philip. “Yo, Philip, come check out my new wall. I did that shit by candlelight!”

Philip slapped Graffiti Patsy’s arm softly and placed a hand over her mouth. “Shh. The lady’s having some female troubles.”

Graffiti Patsy removed Philip’s hand from over her mouth. Sheepishly, she said, “My bad.”

Eliza balled her hands into fists and swirled around to face Graffiti Patsy and Philip. She addressed Graffiti Patsy. “Congrats, you a new canvas. Tag up the whole store. Have a blast.”

What did it matter at this point, anyway? There was nothing she could do anymore.

Philip opened his mouth to protest, but Eliza held up a hand and stormed over to Abuelo Mulligan’s.

Martha was woken up from where she was dozing on the fire escape by George throwing open the door. His face grew relieved. “Thank god. Where have you been?”

Martha crossed her arms over her chest. “Waiting here since three in the morning for you and Alex.”

George shoved his hands into his pockets and pulled out his phone. “You should check your messages more often.” Martha glared at him. “I’ve been combing the street all night looking for the two of you.”

Martha pulled out her own phone and showed the dark screen. “My phone died. Alex went out dancing. I tried to find him after the blackout.”

George rubbed his temples, turning to look at the apartment. “He followed your lead. He walked out the door, same as you.”

Martha stood up. “Pero, carajo, who opened that door in the first place?”

George’s face turned bright red. “Martha—”

Martha held out a hand, shaking her head. “Later, George. Right now, we find our son.”

Eliza stormed into Abuelo Mulligan’s kitchen. “Abuelo.” Abuelo Mulligan looked up from the two coffee cups he’d set out.

“Eliza, are you okay?” Abuelo asked, ambling over to Eliza and taking her hands. “Paciencia y fe, Eliza.” Eliza nodded and allowed Abuelo to lead her over to his dining table.

“Paciencia y fe,” Eliza mumbled, taking a sip of coffee. She glanced at the checkered bag on the table. “Let me see it again?” Abuelo nodded and Eliza peeked inside the bag. As she did, a small part of her anxiety dissipated. At least one thing hadn’t gone wrong. At least one thing hadn’t been ruined.

Eliza looked up from the bag. “So we survived the night… What happens today?”

Abuelo Mulligan looked up from his cup of coffee. “A third for you.”

Eliza nodded absently. “Uh huh, uh huh… Uh huh, uh huh…”

“A third more me.”

“No pare, sigue, sigue,” Eliza mumbled, running a hand over her face.

“The rest for Philip.” Abuelo Mulligan was abruptly in front of Eliza, taking her hands. “And with our share of the money, and with our share of the money— Dream of the seaside air! See me beside you there! Think of the hundreds of stories we will share! You and I!”

“Ayy…” Eliza mumbled, squeezing Abuelo’s hands.

“Now you can sell your store.” Eliza winced at that and wondered if Abuelo Mulligan knew what had happened to her store. “Open a bar by the shore. I’ve told you hundreds of stories about your home; make some more.”

“More…” Eliza said contemplatively. She had the funds, and she had been putting it off for years… 

“Yo! I know just where to go. There’s a little beach named Sanya. With no road, you need a rowboat or motorbike to reach this beach. It’s just a stone’s throw from home. My folks’ home. Before I was born. Before they passed on and left me on my own, in New York, with the grocery store.” Eliza remembered her sick mother pressing the Bodega’s keys into her hands at age fourteen. 

“They would talk about home, I listened closely for the way they whispered to each other ‘bout the better weather.” Eliza remembered being little and coloring in her coloring book and listening to her parents talk about how much better the weather was in Sanya. She remembered her Dad, lying in a hospital bed, apologizing for never taking her there. “Inseparable, they even got sick together. They never got better… passed away that November and left me with these memories like dyin’ embers from a dream I can’t remember… Ever since then it’s like another day, deeper in debt, with different dilemmas. The bodega’s a mess, I’ll be seeing less of Maria… Abuelo, I don’t know how I can keep it together!” Eliza choked back her tears and Abuelo Mulligan wrapped her in his arms.

After a long moment, he tilted her chin up. “They’d be so proud of you today.”

Eliza nodded and wiped away her tears. There was no use dwelling on the past. It was time to look to the future. “Then by the end of July—”

“Uh huh, uh huh… Uh huh, uh huh…”

“Out where the sea meets the sky—”

“No pare. Sigue, sigue!” Abuelo Mulligan cheered and Eliza laughed loudly— really laughed —and took Abuelo’s hands in hers.

“Think of the hundreds of stories we’ll create. You and I! Ay…”

“We’ll find your country—” Abuelo said, almost singing.

“I’ll find my country sky!”

Abuelo Mulligan nodded. “Ay, find your country!”

Eliza smiled. “But whatever we do it’s—”

“You and I,” Eliza and Abuelo finished together. Eliza smiled and hugged Abuelo Mulligan with all her strength, all her worries about the store and Maria forgotten. She had tickets to buy and bags to pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Sorry I had to cut the “US Navy” part from Hundreds of Stories, but I couldn’t find anything funny for Eliza’s name. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, thank you for the kudos, and have a nice day!
> 
> (Also, don’t feel pressured to leave comments or Kudos, but it would be nice.)


	8. Why is Everyone So Happy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enough-Carnaval Del Barrio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Martha took a deep breath and sighed, taking another sip of instant coffee. The dispatch center was silent and it about broke Martha’s heart to think she’d never sit in there again.

George opened the door and entered, shaking his head at Martha’s questioning look. “I went down to the park, nothing. Any word here?”

Martha shook her head and George shuffled over to where Martha had set out an extra cup of coffee. “Mostly voice mails. Half the people’s phones are out… I got the letter M…”

George cut off her rambling with a hand on her shoulder. “Look, there he is.”

Martha looked up from her coffee mug so fast her head spun. Standing in the doorway, breathing heavily, was Alex. “Mom, Dad.”

George slammed his coffee mug down, causing Alex to startle. “Alex, start talking.”

“Where the hell have you been?” Martha asked, her eyes scanning him for injuries or anything of the sort. Luckily, he seemed fine.

“I should’ve called,” Alex admitted. “I know.”

“Answer your mother. Where were you?” Right as George finished speaking, John strolled in the door, his hands in his pockets.

John waved shyly. “Boss, Mrs. Washington. Can I have a minute?”

Only then did Martha notice the little circle shaped bruise under Alex’s collar. It seemed that George noticed it too, as his face turned bright red and he looked like he was about to blow a fuse.

Alex smiled softly. “It’s okay, Dad.” 

George breathed in deeply and Martha wondered how this was going to play out. “Think very hard about what you say to me, John.”

Alex groaned. “Just hear him out, please.”

George shook his head, muttering to himself, “Actually, no.” He turned to John. “I’ll say this nicely: please, stay away from my son.”

John took a step forward. “Sir, I’ve worked here since I was practically a kid. You know me.”

Martha nodded, conceding to John’s point. It was true. They knew John, and John was a good kid. Alex could’ve picked someone much worse than John Laurens.

George, however, didn’t seem to see things the way Martha did. “Do you think you’re anywhere close to his level?”

John shook his head rapidly. “Of course not, sir. No one is.”

“Quit calling him sir,” Alex hissed at John.

George whirled to face Alex. “You stay out of this!”

Alex rubbed his hands over his face. “Jesus, Dad…”  
George turned back to John, who retracted his hand from Alex’s shoulder. “I taught you how to drive,” George snapped. “I taught you how to tie a goddamn tie!”

John nodded his head. “And now I tie the same Windsor knot around my collar as you. We’re not that different.”

George scoffed. “You know nothing about Alex’s culture— your own culture!”

John groaned loudly, shaking his head, an exasperated smile on his face. “This bullshit again?”

Martha glanced at Alex. Alex was shaking his head and he looked like he was about to cry. Martha decided then that enough was enough. “George, calm down.”

“You will never be a part of this family.” George jabbed his finger into John’s chest harshly. “Understand?”

John nodded, pushing George’s finger off his chest. “Loud and clear.” He turned for the exit.

Alex’s head peeked out from his hands. “John!”

John whirled around to look at Alex. “Why learn the language if they still won’t hear you?” With that as his farewell, John slammed the door behind him.

George watched him go with satisfaction before rage took over his face again and he turned to look at Alex. “Are you trying to shame me?”

Alex laughed, rolling his eyes. “Yes, Dad, that’s exactly what I’m trying to do!”

George clapped his hands together. “Well, you have succeeded. Congratulations, you succeed at everything.”

Martha looked at George with wide eyes as Alex stumbled back like he’d been slapped across the face. 

Alex shook his head and started yelling back. “Sorry I embarrass you!”

Martha slammed her hand on the counter, gaining Alex and George’s attention. “Oh my god, enough! Now you listen to me…”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Mom—”

Martha held a hand up, shaking her head with her eyes closed. “Carajo, I said enough. I’m sick of all this fighting.”

George gestured to Alex. “Martha—”

Martha covered her hands with her ears. “Yapapapapa! I think you’ve said enough. Now listen to what I say. What I say goes!” Martha turned to address George first. “Papi, you’ve pushed us all away.”

George gaped. “I’m trying to—”

Martha held a finger out, slamming her palm against the counter again and ignoring the sting. “I don’t wanna hear it! We make decisions as a family. And throwing John out like that?” Martha shook her head in disapproval. “You sound just like your mother. We both know what a son of a bitch she was!”

George grimaced. Martha hmphed and continued on. “You think it all comes down to you…”

“Martha, let’s talk about it…”

Martha shook her head and stamped her foot. “No, no, no, no, no! No, no, no, no, no! No, you don’t! When you have a problem you come home. You don’t go off and make matters worse on your own. One day you’re gonna come back home, and you’re not gonna find me waiting anymore.” 

George covered his face with his hands. After a moment, he spoke up, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry…”

Martha smiled. “Huh. Damn right you’re sorry.” She turned to Alex, who paled slightly once he saw Martha’s gaze drifting to him. “So you stayed out all night?”

Alex looked away. “Mom…”

“I’m talking now. You scared us half to death. You know that right?” Martha looked at Alex, silently begging her son to look at her, but Alex remained staring at the floor, his face lined with guilt.

“I’m sorry.” 

Martha shook her head. “Don’t apologize to me. You save it for your father.”

Alex looked up incredulously. “What?”

Martha gestured to George, who was leaning against the counter with his head in his hands. “Look at your father. He doesn’t sleep when you’re gone. He’s worked his whole life to help you go farther. And he can’t admit when he’s wrong… Now who does that remind you of?” Martha laughed to herself, pointing at Alex and George. “You two deserve each other.”

She took a deep breath, pushing down her own hurt. “Four months you lied to us, what did we do, to make you think we wouldn’t do anything and everything for you? When you have a problem, you come home. You don’t run off and hide from your family all alone. You hear me?” Alex nodded.

“When you have a problem, you come home. As long as we’re alive, you’re never on your own.” Martha cleared her throat. “Leave John. Take John. It doesn’t make any difference, as long as you come home.”

George’s mouth was hanging open and he stared at Martha from the other side of the counter. “Martha—”

Martha rolled her eyes and shook her head, grabbing her purse and coffee mug. “No, no, no, no, no! Enough lying.” She pointed at Alex. “Enough screaming.” She pointed at George. “I’m done trying, and I'm leaving it up to you. It’s up to you! I’ll see you both back home.”  
Martha walked to the door, opened it, and turned to look back at Alex and George once more. “Enough!” She slammed the door behind her and started walking home.

Inside the dispatch, Alex and George remained quiet, stunned into silence. Alex shook his head and left the dispatch, running to find John.

George watched him go with an eye roll. It didn’t matter, anyways. He had work to do to get the dispatch ready for the investment group.

The middle of the block was crowded, filled with people fanning themselves in the sun and complaining.

“My friend was trapped in the subway,” Philip said to Graffiti Patsy. “They had to walk a mile in that dank, nasty tunnel. And he stepped on a rat.”

Graffiti Patsy scrunched up her face. “Ah, hell’s naw.”

Philip nodded. “It’s true.”

Angelica finally stepped out of the salon, her phone in her hand. “Okay, people, I got through to Con Edison.” Everyone cheered. “They said it would be at least twenty four hours—”

Maria groaned. “Are you serious, Angelica?”

Graffiti Patsy shook her head. “That’s some bullshit.”

Angelica waited until everyone stopped complaining to speak again. “Well, we can either sit here and complain or get organized.” Angelica punctuated her statement by clapping.

Overwhelmingly, people yelled out, “Complain!”

Angelica scoffed, grabbing the broom resting against Eliza’s bodega and thrusting it into Graffiti Patsy’s hands. Graffiti Patsy looked at it in confusion. “It’s called a broom,” Angelica clarified.

Graffiti Patsy shook her head and moved to sit back down next to Philip. Angelica put the broom back, throwing her hands into the air in frustration. “It’s the Fourth of July. Show some fucking spirit!”

Everyone sighed and reluctantly grabbed a broom or something like it and started slowly picking up and sweeping trash.

Maria watched the exchange. She stood up and dusted off her skirt, turning to address the block. “I’m going downtown for lunch. Who’s hungry?”

Philip shook his head. “They stopped all the buses. No traffic lights.”

Maria groaned and threw herself back down onto the curb. “This is like Gilligan’s Ghetto Island; I can’t escape!”

Angelica rolled her eyes at Maria’s dramatic declaration and turned to Graffiti Patsy, who was patting Maria’s shoulder. “Oye, Graffiti Patsy, ponla musica.”

Graffiti Patsy shrugged. “I’m out of batteries.”

Philip perked up. “The dispatch has a generator.”

Graffiti Patsy waved off Philip’s suggestion. “Ain’t nobody there.”

Peggy fanned herself with her clutch, walking over to the group. “Can’t you open a hydrant?” She fanned herself harder. Angelica rolled her eyes.

Graffiti Patsy shook her head. “No can do. The popo’s took my monkey wrench.” Peggy groaned loudly.

Angelica sighed. “Play nice.”

Philip cried out, sliding against Abuelo’s railing. “My sneakers are stuck to the damn street.”

Peggy picked at her nails. “My fingernails are slipping off in the heat.”

Alright, that’s it, Angelica thought, standing up at tall as she could. 

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Everyone stopped complaining and cleaning and turned to look at Angelica. 

Angelica placed a hand on her hip. “What’s this tonterÍa that I’m seeing on the street?” Angelica shook her head sadly. “I never thought I’d see the day… Since when are Immigrants scared of heat?”

She cleared her throat. “When I was a little girl growing up in the hills of Vega Alta, my favorite time of year was Christmas time. Ask me why.”

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Finally, Peggy spoke up. “Why?”

Angelica exhaled, but she continued on nonetheless. “There wasn’t an ounce of snow, but oh, the coquito would flow.” Angelica smiled, reminiscing to herself. “As we sang the Aguinaldo, the carnaval would begin to grow. Business is closed, and we’re about to go… Let’s have a carnaval… del barrio!”

“Aller!” The piragua guy cheered, waving the french flag that hung on his cart. Everyone else just groaned.

“Come on, man…” Maria groaned from beside Angelica.

Angelica kept singing. “¡Carnaval del barrio! ¡Carnaval del barrio! Carnaval…” Slowly, one of the guys began banging on a knocked over trash can. Angelica grinned at him in approval.

“¡Carnaval!” The piragua guy cheered, tapping his cart.

“Del barrio…” Angelica sang softly.

“¡Barrio!” Piragua guy sang again.

Angelica pulled up her dress. “We don’t need electricidad! Get off your butt, ¡avanza! Saca la maraca, bring your tambourine. Come and join the parranda.”

Everyone cheered. “¡Carnaval del barrio!” and began making a conga line. Angelica let the Piragua guy spin her around. She glanced around at the block. Everyone, except Maria, was dancing. Angelica decided to let Maria be.

If she wanted to be grumpy and miserable, that was her decision.

After a bit of dancing, Peggy stood out from the crowd, jumping up and down. “Oh, me, me, me! Angie, I have a question. I don’t know what you’re cantando.”

Angelica rolled her eyes, dancing against the Piragua guy. “Just make it up as you go! We are improvisando! Lai le lo lai lo le lo lai, you can sing anything!” Peggy remained standing still, her eyebrows furrowed. Angelica threw her hands in the air. “Peggy, whatever pops into your head, just so long as you sing.”

Peggy nodded and stepped forward. “Uh… My mom is Dominican-Cuban, my dad is from Chile and P.R. which means: I’m Chile-Domini-Curican…” Peggy giggled into her hand. “But I always say I’m from Queens!”

Everyone cheered and Peggy joined the paranda again. 

Maria rolled her eyes. This whole thing was stupid and she had other things to worry about. Maria stood up and started walking towards the salon— at least in there she could dwell in peace— when someone grabbed her by the arm and yanked her into the crowd.

Maria yelped as the guy spun her so she was right by Angelica and Peggy, who looked at her expectantly.

Maria sighed. Why not? She turned to everyone. “Yo, why is everyone so happy? We’re sweating and we have no power.” Someone danced by her and Maria jumped out of the way, glaring at the whole block. “I gotta get out of here soon. This block’s getting worse by the hour.” She turned to Angelica. “You can’t even go to a club with a friend without having somebody shove you!”

Angelica scoffed. “Ay, por favor.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Maria, don’t pretend that Eliza’s your friend, we all know that she loooooves you!”

Everyone oohed and awed and Maria shook her head, turning to Peggy to defend her. Instead, Peggy’s face lit up. “Wow, now that you mention, that sexual tension is easy to see.”

Maria glared at Peggy, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yo, this is bogus!”

Angelica hip bumped Maria. “Haven’t you noticed, you get all your coffee for free?”

Maria glared at Angelica and Peggy’s backs as they returned to dancing. What, they really thought Eliza loved her because she gave her free coffee? Surely, surely, Eliza gave free coffee to other people.

Right?

Maria was about to walk away when someone cried out, “Here comes Eliza!” Maria turned to see Eliza running into the middle of the block, her face red and her smile wide.

“Yo! Yo! Yo, y-y-yo-yo! Now, now, everyone gather ‘round, sit down, listen, I got an announcement. Wow, it involves large amounts, it’s somewhere in the range of ninety-six thousand!” Maria and others gasped. 

“Atención, I’m closin’ shop. Philip, grab everybody a soda-pop. Yo, grab a bottle, kiss it up to God, ‘cause Abuelo Mulligan just won the lotto! We’re bookin’ a flight for Sanya tomorrow!”

Maria felt her jaw drop just as Angelica and Peggy yelled, “Oh my gah!”

Everyone kept dancing, but Maria remained standing, shock still, her head pounding as Eliza’s words repeated in an unpleasant loop in her head. Eliza was leaving… Eliza was leaving tomorrow?

Maria met Philip’s gaze. Philip remained standing still, rubbing his head. He just shook his head and turned around to diligently grab the bottles Eliza requested from the shop.

Maria shoved away somebody who tried to dance with her and instead stumbled over to Abuelo’s steps, sitting down with the thump.

Angelica smiled, looking around at everyone’s happy faces. “Everything changes today.”

“Hey!”

“Eliza’s on her way, off to a better place.” Angelica and Peggy pointed at Maria, who was sitting with her head in her hands. “Look at Maria’s face!”

The commotion started up again as John ran into the crowd, smiling wide and grabbing Eliza’s arm. “Everything changes today! Goodbye, Mr. Washington.”

“Okay!” Eliza cheered.

“I’m taking over the barrio,” John finished, running a hand through his hair.

Eliza, Angelica, and Peggy looked at each other. “We’re getting out of the barrio!”

Angelica walked over to John, lightly tapping his arm. “Hey, Mr. John, have you seen any horses today?”

John’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Angelica smirked. “I heard you and Alex went for a roll in the hay!” John blushed and everyone cheered, oohing and awing.

“John and Alex! Sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G! ¡Qué bochinche! John and Alex! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

Maria smiled slightly to herself despite the fact that her head was still spinning. At least Alex had finally gotten John and vice versa. She watched as Philip spoke up.

“Hold up…”

“Wait a minute…” Graffiti Patsy said from behind Philip.

Philip began speaking, his voice getting higher as he spoke and he became more anxious and frantic. “Eliza’s leavin’ us for Sanya? And John went and stole the guy that I’m best friends with? He was my babysitter first!” The crowd laughed and Philip turned to them. “Listen up, is that what y’all want? We close the bodega, the neighborhood is gone. They selling the dispatch, and they closing the salón, and they’ll never turn the lights back on, ‘cause we are powerless.”

“We are powerless,” Maria whispered, more to herself than to anyone else. She thought of the previous night and how powerless and scared she’d felt then.

“And y’all keep dancin’ and singin’ and celebratin’. And it’s gettin’ late and this place disintegratin’ and we are powerless.”

“We are powerless…” 

Eliza rolled her eyes and grabbed Philip’s arm. “Alright, we’re powerless, so light up a candle. There’s nothing going on here that we can’t handle.”

Philip jumped away from Eliza. “You don’t understand, I’m not trying to be funny.”

Eliza placed her hands on Philip’s shoulders. “We’re gonna give a third of the money to you, Philip.”

Philip’s eyes widened. “What?”

Eliza smiled. “Yeah, yeah…”

Philip looked up at Eliza, tears in his eyes. “For real?”  
Eliza nodded, throwing an arm over Philip’s shoulders. 

“Yes! Maybe you’re right, Philip, call in the coroners! Maybe we’re powerless, a corner full of foreigners. Maybe this neighborhood’s changing forever. Maybe tonight is our last night together, however! How do you want to face it? Do you wanna waste it, when the end is so close you can taste it? Y’all could cry with your head in the sand—” Eliza grabbed a flag. “—I’m a fly this flag that I got in my hand!”

“¡Álzala donde quiera!” Angelica and the Piragua guy cheered.

Eliza pumped her fist into the air. “Can we raise our voices tonight? Can we make a little noise tonight?”

Everyone cheered louder. “¡Esa bonita bandera! ¡Contiene mi alma entera!”

Eliza smiled, grateful that her last day in the barrio was filled with such festivities. “In fact, can we sing so loud and raucous they can hear us across the bridge in East Secaucus?”

Everyone cheered louder.

Eliza smiled and yelled as loud as she could. “From Puerto Rico to Sanya! Wherever we go, we rep our people and the beat go…”

Eliza watched with satisfaction as everyone cheered. Her eyes drifted to Maria, who was walking away. Eliza dashed over to her and grabbed her arm. “Maria, forget about what coulda been. Dance with me one last night in the hood again?” She held out her hands for Maria to take.

Maria bit her lip. Behind her, Angelica and Peggy cheered. “¡Wepa!”

Maria rolled her eyes, but she took Eliza’s hands. Eliza smiled and spun Maria around. Eliza was happy to leave, but with Maria in her arms, she wished she could stay in this moment forever, because Maria was actually smiling.

And it was a beautiful sight.

Eliza spun Maria one last time. Maria giggled then, suddenly, she seemed to realize what happened and she ran off to the salon. Eliza watched her go sadly, but then she turned back to the crowd.

“¡Carnaval del barrio! ¡Carnaval del barrio! ¡Del barrio! Alza la bandera! La bandera Dominicana! Alza la bandera ¡La bandera Puertorriqueña! Alza la bandera! ¡La bandera Mexicana!”

Eliza cheered. “Hey!” She grinned as Alex grabbed her hand, rushing her to the edge of the crowd.

His face displayed a picture of anxiety, and his eyes were wide. “Eliza, come inside Abuelo’s.”

Eliza cocked her head to the side. “Why?”

Alex swallowed. “Something’s happened.”

Eliza immediately ran up the steps to Abuelo Mulligan’s house, Alex in tow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Also, the reason Washington’s mother is the one they reference, not his father, because historically Washington and his mother didn’t get along all that well. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, thank you for the kudos, and have a nice day!
> 
> (Also, don’t feel pressured to leave comments or Kudos, but it would be nice.)


	9. Went Out in Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atención-Alabanza

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter! And I’m sorry. Also: PLEASE, TAKE NOTICE OF THE TAGS CHANGE. Thank you and stay safe.

George took a deep, shuddering breath from inside the dispatch booth. He slowly turned the microphone on, his eyes red from tears. George cleared his throat. 

“Atención, atención. Roll down your windows, turn up your radios. Un momento, por favor.” George breathed in heavily, covering his face with his hands.

“Atención, atención. Please, drive slow, and let everybody know: Abuelo Mulligan passed away, at noon today.” 

George turned off the microphone and let the tears freely trickle down his cheeks.

Maria sighed from inside the salon. Angelica was packing and Peggy was bouncing around, smiling. “That was so much fun!” she squealed, sitting down cross legged on one of the salon chairs. “What a goodbye gift.”

Angelica nodded, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “That it was.” She whistled low. “I still can’t believe Eliza and Abuelo Mulligan are leaving. Everything is changing.” 

Maria bit her lip and tried to focus on her magazine.

Peggy gasped and slapped Angelica’s hip. “Don’t say that!”

Angelica raised an eyebrow before her gaze followed Peggy’s to Maria. Maria breathed out through her nose and squeezed the page of her beauty magazine tighter. Angelica sighed. “Maria, it’s okay to be sad.”

Maria gritted her teeth. For god’s sake, couldn’t Angelica just leave her alone? Why did she have to care now, when Maria felt like she was a breath away from falling apart?

“I’m fine,” Maria gritted out. “Why wouldn’t I be? It’s like you guys said: Eliza’s off to a better place. Now, can’t you see I’m reading?”

Peggy peeked at the cover of Maria’s magazine. “But you hate beauty magazines.” Maria breathed in deep through her nose and, for once, Angelica took the hint and walked away.

“Let her be in denial, Peggy.”

“I’m not in denial of anything!” Maria shot back, but even to her own ears it didn’t sound true. 

Before Angelica could quip back, the door opened.

Angelica sighed, standing up. “I’m sorry, mijo, but we’re closed.” Angelica put on her retail smile. “But we’re opening in the Bronx next week.”

The guy shook his head. “No, I’m one of Mr. Washington’s drivers. I hate to tell you, but Abuelo Mulligan passed away.”

Angelica, Maria, and Peggy gasped. The guy waved goodbye and left. “No me diga…” Peggy whimpered, burying her face in Angelica’s shirt.

Angelica hugged Peggy tighter and wiped away her tears. “Ay dios mio.”

Maria felt like she was going to be sick. Abuelo Mulligan was dead? Good lord, could this weekend get any worse? Poor Eliza… Maria glanced out the window to Abuelo Mulligan’s house.

People were congregating by the stairs. Eliza stood on the steps, clearly talking. “Guys,” Maria said softly, gesturing to the window.

Angelica and Peggy looked up. Maria dashed over to one of the open boxes and pulled out three candles. One pink, one red, and one yellow. She passed them to Angelica and Peggy, keeping the red one for herself.

“We should go.”

Angelica nodded and smiled sadly at Maria. Maria held the door open.

Martha sighed as she vacuumed the house. There were a million things on her mind, but it was best if she just focused on one. Now, that was the dirty carpets. The door opened and Martha turned off the vacuum.

Alex stood by the door, looking at her sadly. “Mijo?” Martha asked, walking towards Alex. Even if she was mad at him, she never wanted to see her son cry. “Alex?”

“Abuelo Mulligan is dead,” Alex mumbled, burying his face in his hands. “They’re having a wake at her stoop.” He wiped his tears with the heels of his hands. “John said he’d light a candle for me while I fetched you.”

Martha gasped, tears springing into her eyes. She pulled Alex into her arms before running off to grab her purse from the kitchen counter. “Let’s go, then.Vamos.”

Alex nodded and Martha locked the door. She turned back to Alex. “Go ahead, honey. I’ll go fetch your father.”

Alex nodded and ran off. Martha sighed. Ay dios mio, this weekend was just getting worse and worse.

John was sitting on the curb when Alex walked up to him, his face blotchy and his eyes red. John shot up like a rocket. “Alex, love, what’s wrong?” Alex shook his head and buried his face in John’s chest.

John ran a hand through Alex’s hair. “Shh.” 

Eventually, Alex pulled back. “A—Abuelo Mulligan is dead.” John gasped and Alex began crying again. John had never been especially close with Abuelo Mulligan despite being Eliza’s best friend, but he’d always been so nice to John.

Oh god, poor Eliza.

“Oh god,” John mumbled into Alex’s hair, kissing the top of his head. Alex slowly pulled back, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

“They’re having a wake by her stoop. I’m going to go get my mom. Will you light a candle for me?”

John nodded. “Of course.”

Alex nodded and leaned up to kiss John’s cheek. He waved and ran off down the street.

John sighed and began walking down the street to Abuelo Mulligan’s.

Philip was sitting inside the trashed bodega, Graffiti Patsy beside him, when Eliza stumbled in, her eyes red with unshed tears. “Eliza?” Philip asked, stepping forward to grab Eliza’s hand.

“Abuelo…” Eliza let out a sob and Philip gently guided her to the crate he’d been sitting on before.

“Eliza, Eliza, what happened?” 

Eliza pinched the bridge of her nose and sniffled loudly. “Abuelo… Abuelo Mulligan p—passed a—away.” 

Philip stumbled back in his shock. Were it not for Graffiti Patsy’s reflexes, he would have fallen to the floor. “What?”

Eliza nodded. And Philip, despite the fact that he was sixteen years old now, almost a man, he threw himself into Eliza’s arms and cried like a child. Eliza held him close to her and they cried together.

Eventually, they stood. “We should get to her stoop,” 

Eliza said, kissing the top of Philip’s head. “I want to have a wake.” Philip nodded.

Graffiti Patsy looked up from her shoes as they walked past. “Shit, man, I’m sorry.”

Eliza remained frowning, but she did nod. “Thanks.”

Eliza and Philip stepped outside. 

Eliza took a deep breath as she stood at the top of Abuelo Mulligan’s stoop. Eliza had never been good at public speaking, but there were some things she needed to say.

All around her, people held lit up candles and watched her with red eyes and tear streaked faces. Eliza straightened her shoulders and cleared her throat. Everyone looked up at her and Eliza pushed down her anxiety.

“He was found and pronounced… at the scene. He was already lying in bed. The paramedics said that his heart gave out… I mean, that’s basically what they said.” Eliza pinched the bridge of her nose before she could start crying again, this time in front of everyone. “They said: a combination of the stress and the heat… Why he never took his medicine, I’ll never understand.

“I’d like to think he went out in peace… with pieces of bread crumbs in his hand.” Eliza smiled to herself. “Abuelo Mulligan had simple pleasures. He sang the praises of things we ignore. Glass Coke bottles, bread crumbs, a sky full of stars… He cherished these things. He’d say: “Alabanza.” Alabanza means to raise this thing to God’s face and to sing, quite literally: “Praise to this.” When he was here, the path was clear. And he was just here…” Eliza looked around at the block and she could no longer hold back her tears. “He was just here…”

Everyone was rendered silent. Eliza sat back down and buried her face in her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. The silence was finally broken by a singing voice.  
“Alabanza. Alabanza al senor Mulligan, señor. Alabanza, alabanza. Alabanza. Alabanza al senor Mulligan, señor. Alabanza, alabanza.” Eliza looked up to see that it was Alex, singly softly and swaying side to side.

Angelica and Peggy joined in, raising their candles. “Alabanza. Alabanza a senor Mulligan, señor.”

Philip stood up from where he was sitting at the bottom step and walked over to grab a candle, adding his voice to the mix. John wrapped his free arm around Philip and he began singing too.

Eliza walked down the steps and Martha pulled him into her arms. “It’ll be okay, Eliza,” she whispered, and Eliza sobbed into Martha’s neck.

“Paciencia y fe!” Alex sang, and people slowly incorporated it into the song. 

Once they’d finished singing, everyone turned to Eliza. 

Eliza softly sang, “Alabanza…”

Eliza looked up at the sky. Alabanza, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I’m sorry this chapter is so short, but I promise the next one will be longer. Anyway, have a nice day, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, thank you all for the comments and kudos, and Happy Duel Day!
> 
> (Also, don’t feel pressured to leave comments or Kudos, but it would be nice.)


	10. We Go On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything I Know-No me Diga Reprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter!

Alex shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked down his block. His tears had finally dried and he was ready to return to the block, confident that no one would see him cry.

He breathed in the warm summer air and glanced around the block. Everyone else was changing for the better, facing the horizon, and here he was. He was going backwards.

Eliza was sitting at Abuelo’s stoop, a box beside her, when Alex walked up. “Can I sit?” Eliza waved at the step and Alex sat down.

Alex sighed and looked out at the horizon, rubbing a hand through his hair. Eliza was also quiet, staring at her feet.

Alex gestured to the box and Eliza nodded. Alex nodded back and grabbed the box, opening it slowly. The first thing he saw was a lottery ticket. “New York Lotto, 1978.”

Eliza laughed softly, taking it into her own hands. “He thought it was bad luck to throw them away.”

Alex nodded, smiling to himself. Maybe he was right. Maybe lotto tickets should be kept. He won, in the end.  
Alex shook himself out of the thought and pulled out a piece of blue cardstock paper with crayon written on it. Alex gasped.

“My Abuelo’s Front Door by Elizabeth Schuyler! Third grade.” 

Eliza leaned forward to read it. She laughed, pointing at the right hand corner of the paper. “Man, I got a check minus on that thing.”

Alex snickered. “Nice handwriting.” He cleared his throat. “ ‘My Abuelo’s door is all busted up. It is falling off the…”

Alex nudged Eliza and pointed at the word. Eliza huffed out a laugh. “I believe that would be ‘hinges’ spelled with a ‘j’.”

Alex nodded and continued on. “ ‘The doorbell don’t work because so many people come over to visit, the doorknob be falling out.” Eliza and Alex laughed together.

“The poet laureate of 183rd street.” Alex nudged Eliza’s shoulder. Eliza took a deep breath and turned to Alex.

“Alex, how much is your tuition?”

Alex’s smile slid off of his face and he looked down at his hands. “He asked me about it.”

Eliza sighed. “Abuelo would want you to have some.”

Alex shook his head and fiddled with the hair tie on his wrist. “I have my parents. I— I can’t take his money.”

Eliza nodded and Alex spoke up again. “But if you could spare some of these pictures, I’m sure my parents would appreciate it.”

Eliza smiled. “There’s some more boxes inside.” Eliza paused and took Alex’s hand. “I just want you to know, Alex, even if you don’t go back to Stanford, I’ll still be so honored to have to have you as my pseudo brother. And I know that John, Maria, Philip, Angelica, Peggy… no one else will be any less amazed by you.”

Alex sniffed as he smiled up at her. Alex shook his head and pulled out a picture album. He grinned widely as he ran his hands over the pictures. “In this album, there’s a picture of the ladies at Angelica’s.” Alex laughed to himself. “You can tell it’s from the eighties by the volume of their hair.”

Behind him, Eliza snorted. Alex kept speaking. “There you are, just a baby.” Eliza leaned over Alex’s shoulder to see where Alex was pointing. “Eighty seven, Halloween.”

Alex sighed to himself. Anything that happened on this block, whether it was big or small, Abuelo was there. And now he wasn’t.

“Every afternoon I came here after school. He’d make sure I did my homework.” He could barely write his name, but he always did all he could to help. Alex had always admired him for it.

“He’d stare at the paper and tell me—”

“Bueno, let’s review,” Eliza finished for him. Alex gently pushed at Eliza’s shoulder.

“Why don’t you tell me everything you know?” Alex handed Eliza the album and pulled out another one from the box, flipping open the dusty cover.

“In this album, there’s a picture of Abuelo in Havana.” He was holding a rag doll, unsmiling in black and white. Alex ran his finger over the picture.

“I wonder what he’s thinking.” Alex turned to look at Eliza. “Does he know that he’ll be leaving for New York City, on a cold dark night?” Eliza shrugged and leaned over to get a better view.

Alex knew he was rambling, but Eliza wasn’t complaining, so he kept talking. “And on the day they ran, did he dream of endless summers? Did his mother have a plan or did they just go? Did someone sit him down and tell him “ ‘Hercules, get ready to leave behind everything you know…’”

Alex sighed. “Everything I know… what do I know?”

Eliza stood up and patted Alex’s shoulder. “I’ll go find those photos.” Alex watched her go. Once Eliza closed the door, Alex dove into the box, pulling out a green folder.

In the folder, there was a picture from Alex’s high school graduation. He was standing between his parents and smiling.

The program was beside it. Alex flipped it open. It was in mint condition, and there was a star beside his name.  
Under it, there was a picture of him, his mom, and his dad, smiling at the airport on the day he left for California.

Abuelo saved everything…

Alex turned back to the box. His life— all of their lives— were contained in these boxes. While the man who held them was gone, it was their job to go on. To grow.  
Alex smiled with tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked up at the sky. 

Hold tight, Abuelo, if you’re up there, I’ll make you proud of everything I know, Alex thought. Alex grabbed the box and hurried inside Abuelo’s house. However, before he opened the door fully, he stopped by the doorframe.

“Thank you, Abuelo,” Alex whispered. “For everything I know.”

Alex set the box down and went to find Eliza inside the house. He had pictures to obtain and parents to find.

Alex hesitantly stepped outside onto his parents’ fire escape. They both turned upon hearing him enter. Alex took a deep breath.

He walked to the railing where they stood, rummaging in his pocket and producing some of the pictures Eliza had given him. 

“Eliza and I thought you might want these.”

Dad took the photo and a smile made its way into his features as he ran his fingers over the picture. He whistled.

“The day I bought the business.” He laughed. “That man took every dollar I had.” He handed the picture to mom.

She smiled. “Mr. Steuben. When half the block was German.” Alex laughed along with his Dad.

His dad took the picture again, fiddling with the folded edges. “That Polaroid is an antique.”

Alex watched the exchange with hope. At least they were in a good mood. You can do this, Alex reminded himself.

“Dad, I just have to say this first. John’s a good person. He makes me happy. I hope you can trust me.” Alex nodded and turned to his Mom.

“Mom, I’ve been thinking all day about what you said… what dad did.” Alex breathed in. “If you two have never quit, there’s no way I’m going to. I want to go back to Stanford and finish what I started.”

Having said his piece, Alex stepped back to let his parents talk.

Dad turned to face Mom. “Martha.”

Mom looked up at him. “Yes?”

Dad took her hands. “I’m asking for your support on this.”

Mom nodded. “So then ask.”

Alex sniggered and Dad grinned. “Senora Martha Washington, are we ready to sell our business?”

Mom sighed, looking out at the sky. “I will never be ready.” Alex’s heart dropped to his feet. Mom continued. “But I think it’s the right time.”

Alex let out a contained sigh and threw his arms around his parents’ neck. Once they broke part, Alex fumbled with his hair tie.

“What will you do?”

Dad shrugged. “I’ll be a mechanic again if that's what it takes to make sure you don’t have to.”

Alex nodded. “How can I ever pay you back?”

Dad cleared his throat, patting his chest. “When I was nine, I took some pieces of wood and made a box. I took the rag from the kitchen and an old coffee can.  
“I walked to the plaza in Arecibo, and I shined shoes for a nickel. At the end of the day, there were thirty-five cents in the jar,” Dad finished proudly. Alex bit his lip to keep from smiling.  
“Did I spend it on candy? Did I buy toys?”

“You bought shoe polish,” Mom answered, rolling her eyes fondly. Alex had a feeling that she’d heard this story a few times before.

“I’ve always had a mind for investments.” Dad turned to take Alex’s hand. “Alexander Hamilton-Washington: Bachelor of Economics.” He shrugged. “When that day comes, we’ll call it even.”

“I love you, Dad. I love you, Mom.” They smiled at Alex as he threw his arms around their necks.

Maria groaned as she placed a box from inside the salon on the cement floor of the pavement. Despite the fact that Maria had never really liked her job in the first place, she felt almost sad to see the salon empty.

She turned back inside to grab another box just in time to see Peggy hoist up the last one and for Angelica to flip the light switch uselessly.

“Still no power…” Angelica said in a sing-song voice, sighing and grabbing her purse.

“Tell me something I don’t know…” Maria responded, stepping out of the way of the door. Angelica closed the door behind her.

When it clicked shut, Maria couldn’t help a feeling of finality.

“I think that’s all of the boxes,” Peggy said, wiping the sweat from her brow. Maria nodded and slung her purse over her shoulder.

“Tell me something I don’t know…” Angelica and Maria answered, trailing off at the end.

God, she just wanted to go home and lie down. It had been a long, long, emotionally taxing day and her bed had never seemed more appealing.

Maria found herself glancing at Abuelo’s stoop. She pointed at the steps, which were lined with candles. “Look at all those candles…” 

Maria wondered if Eliza’s flight was still on for tomorrow morning. Would she still be leaving?

“Tell me something I don’t know…”

Peggy suddenly swayed and grabbed the wall of the salon in support. “Aye, I’m seeing double.” She clutched her head.

Angelica wrapped an arm around her waist and Peggy leaned up against her. “That’s what always happens when you wear those tight jeans, mami.”

Maria rolled her eyes. It wasn’t Peggy’s jeans, it was the heat. It must’ve been over a hundred degrees at the moment.

“Ay dios mio,” Maria whispered.

Angelica exhaled loudly before her face lit up and she pulled away from Peggy. She grinned at Maria. “I got a little something something.” She produced a piece of paper out of her purse.

Maria crossed her arms over her chest as Peggy nearly squealed. “No me diga.”

Angelica unfolded the paper and handed it to Maria. “Maria’s new address.” Maria felt her jaw actually drop and she pulled the paper up to her face to examine it.  
Angelica closed her purse. “A little birdie told me you needed a credit reference.”

Maria clutched the paper to her chest. She wondered if she was going to burst into tears. “What do you mean?” Her voice was so quiet she almost couldn’t hear herself.

“I’ll cosign on the apartment,” Angelica explained. “But you have to invite me for a housewarming cocktail.

Maria could’ve hugged her. “Where did you get this?”

Angelica glanced at her nails, clearly enjoying the answer. “Eliza swore me to secrecy.”

Maria felt her jaw literally drop again for the second time in less than five minutes. Eliza had done this?

Angelica turned to Peggy, tapping her ear like she’d done the previous day. “Peggy, what’s my rule?”

Peggy smiled and stood up straight like a particularly diligent pupil. “She’ll do anything for you, but she won’t support your mother’s dysfunction.” 

“Good job,” Angelica praised, squeezing Peggy’s upper arm. Maria kept gaping. After a few seconds, she finally got her wits together enough to respond.

“No— no I know the rule.” Maria smiled softly. “I just never thought you meant the first part.” She clapped her hands together. “I’m touched. You care about me.”

“Oye, I’m just co signing the lease.” Angelica held up a hand and pointed at Maria. “You’re still paying the rent.”

“Thank you. I… Thank you!” Maria exclaimed, turning around and running off. She had to go visit Thomas at the liquor store.

Peggy watched Maria go with a smile on her face. It was good to see Maria so genuinely happy. Peggy didn’t have the best memory, but she was pretty sure she’d never seen Maria smile that much before.

Beside her, Angelica rolled her eyes affectionately, digging around in her purse for her key ring. Peggy smirked. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Angelica kept fumbling with her key ring. “What?”

Peggy grinned. “Spreading Jesus’ love!” She clapped and Angelica huffed beside her, a smile still on her face.

“I never should’ve gotten you that ‘miracle a day’ calendar.” She waved her hands. Peggy watched Angelica fumble for another minute or so before she held up the salon key.

Peggy winced.

Sure, the salon was moving to the Bronx. Sure, she’d still see Angelica and Maria everyday, but it wouldn’t be the same.

She’d worked at this salon since she was fifteen. And now she was not only leaving her block, but she was leaving behind the first, and only, place that she had ever truly loved with all her heart. 

“This is it. Make a farewell speech?” Peggy asked, wiping away her tears. Angelica looked up at the salon, hesitating locking the door, when she shook her head.

“No.” Angelica locked the door with a click and turned to face Peggy. “It’s like a bandaid. Rip it off quick, you won’t even notice.” Peggy nodded and walked over to Angelica, giving her a hug.

Angelica hugged her back, and Peggy pretended that they both weren’t crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Anyway, have a nice day and happy late Alexander Hamilton’s death day! Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos, and, once again, have a nice day.
> 
> (Also, don’t feel pressured to leave comments or Kudos, but it would be nice.)


	11. A Bottle of Cold Champagne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piragua Reprise-Champagne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter!  
> (Also: Finally some Marliza!)

Maria was practically panting by the time she arrived at Thomas’s Liquor Store downtown.

It had taken her running all of five blocks to the bus stop before she’d remembered what Philip had said earlier— none of the busses were running because of the blackout.

Normally, Maria would given up right about then and gone home, but  _ goddamnit _ Eliza had just made Maria’s day a thousand times better and had done the nicest thing possible, and she  _ had _ to thank her.

At this point, it wasn’t even about the bet.

And so, despite the fact that it was one hundred and five degrees and the Liquor store was about a half hour’s walk away, Maria persisted.

She’d never been so glad that she’d decided to wear tennis shoes that day.

Maria took a deep breath and hurried inside the store. She nearly cried tears of joy when the air conditioning blasted on her face.

Thomas looked up from the counter and smiled wolfishly. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Miss Maria Lewis.”

Maria rolled her eyes and cake up to the counter. “Hi, Thomas. How’s James?” At Thomas’ shocked expression, Maria smiled wider.

“How do you know about that?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Maria shrugged.

“I work with Angelica. We both know that she knows all and sees all.” Thomas nodded concedingly.

“True,” he admitted, and Maria nodded, walking past him to the fridges.

As Maria scanned the champagne bottles, she realized that she had no clue what type of champagne Eliza liked. She couldn’t exactly call her, either, as it would ruin the surprise.

Maria gently banged her head against the freezer door.

“What’s got you so upset, Miss Lewis?” Thomas called from the register, resting his chin on the heel of his palm.

Maria begrudgingly trudged up to Thomas at the counter. He knew Eliza well enough. Maybe he could help.

“Thomas, do you know what type of champagne Eliza likes?”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Eliza Schuyler? Like the bodega running Eliza Schuyler? Like the Eliza Schuyler who has been pining after you for years? That Eliza?”

Maria rolled her eyes. “Yes, that Eliza—” Maria froze as Thomas’ words finally registered in her head. “Wait, what? Repeat what you just said.”

Thomas frowned and his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What part—”

“Asshole, you know what part,” Maria interrupted, but her heart was racing about a thousand miles per hour.

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Eliza Schuyler has been pining after you for  _ years _ . Everyone saw it but you.  _ That’s _ why I was so surprised that you were buying her something. I figured you’d finally shared her affections.”

Maria knew that she probably looked like an idiot, eyes wide and mouth open and gaping like a fish, but she didn’t care.

Wait— that meant Angelica had been telling the truth? Angelica’s words came back to her. 

_ Maria, don’t pretend that Eliza’s your friend, we all know that she loooooves you _ …

Eliza liked her? “Eliza likes me? You mean romantically?”

Thomas nodded. “I figured you knew and just chose to ignore it. I mean, not to rub it in your face, but  _ everyone _ knew.”

Maria could tell that Thomas was taking immense pleasure in being the one to break the news to her, but, strangely, Maria wasn’t even mad.

She felt… God, she felt like she was walking on air.

Maria’s eyes widened again. “Oh my god, I think I like Eliza Schuyler!” She ran back to the fridges and grabbed the first bottle of champagne she saw and slapped down a twenty dollar bill on the counter.

Thomas sighed and pushed the bottle towards her after bagging it up. “I know you’re underage, and the champagne is twenty five dollars, but I’ll let you have it anyway.” Maria beamed at him. However, Thomas wasn’t done speaking. “On one condition: you  _ have _ to come back and tell me how this goes. You know how I live for the drama.”

Maria nodded. “Thank you, Thomas!” She grabbed the bag. “Thank you!”

Thomas waved as Maria dashed out of the store. “Go get your girl!”

Maria kept running as fast as she could. She needed to get back to the bodega, and she needed to get there fast.

Lafayette strolled down the street, whistling happily to himself. It was hotter than the islands today, but Lafayette couldn’t have cared less. Because, when he turned to his left, the glorious sight of Mister Softee’s broken down truck was there for all to see. 

Mister Softee, the man who had been such a thorn in Lafayette’s side for so long, was finally out of the picture. At least for the time being, anyway.

Lafayette waved happily at Mister Softee, who was kicking his stupid truck. And, as people caught a look at the truck, they came hurrying over to Lafayette.

They came to Lafayette who had, wisely, decided to use a cart and not a truck. A cart wouldn’t break down in the heat, and it was good exercise. People hurried over to him and Lafayette breathed a sigh of relief.

He’d said it before and he’d say it again: this was  _ his _ town. He ran this town. He would never go broke, because this was his town and the people loved him.

Normally, Lafayette charged One-twenty-five for piragua, but he had a new block of ice and there was no competition around. Why not up the price?

“Piragua, piragua! Two-twenty-five, piragua!” He cried out, ringing the bell on his cart.

Lafayette smiled, singing to himself, as people rushed to him to find a momentary reprieve from the summer heat. “Lai lo le lo lai, lai lo le lo lai. Lo le lo lai.”

In the end, at least for Lafayette, blackouts were nice. This was nice, and, even when Mister Softee inevitably fixed his truck and he was up and running again, Lafayette would keep scraping by by the fading light.

He’d keep scraping by just as he always had.

“Piragua!” he yelled out triumphantly, ringing the little bell on his cart as he pushed his cart further along the block.

Eliza sighed, placing out a wad of one hundred dollar bills on the counter. “Philip!” she called out to the street. “Don’t act like you can’t hear me!”

For a few seconds, there was quiet. Eliza was ready to yell his name again, when Philip trudged into the bodega, his arms crossed over his chest.

“State your purpose.”

Eliza rolled her eyes at Philip’s theatrics and gestured to the money on the table. Surely, Philip would smile once he got it.

“Here’s some of that lunch money.” Eliza grinned and slid it over to Philip, who still hadn’t moved. “Go buy some pepperoni slices.”

Philip frowned, looking around the still trashed store.  _ Soon _ , Eliza thought with a pang,  _ it would be someone else’s problem _ .

“So,” Philip finally spoke up. “it all comes down to this, huh? My severance package?”

Eliza sighed. She had truly, genuinely, thought that Philip would be happy. He’d always been very vocal about how much he loathed working for Eliza and ‘wasting away his summers’.

“Money and liberty. What you always wanted. I’m freeing you, you’re free.”

Philip stepped forward, placing a hand on the counter. “Do you think Burt would ever abandon Ernie? You think Knight Rider would ever be anything without Kit? He’d be taking the bus.”

Eliza rolled her eyes and answered right as Maria walked into the bodega. “Philip, I think you watch too much television. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

Eliza glanced at Maria, who was obviously holding something behind her back and smiling like she’d just won a million dollars.

Philip glared at both Eliza and Maria and grabbed the money from the counter. “Fine. Bye. See ya.” He turned for the door.

Maria stepped out of the way, and, right as Philip was about to leave, he turned back around. “This is the end of an era!”

With that as his goodbye, Philip stomped out, leaving Eliza and Maria alone.

Maria watched Philip go with a hint of sadness, but also joy, as his leaving meant she was alone with Eliza and they could talk.

Maria had never been good at talking about her feelings, but she’d planned a whole speech on the run from Thomas’s liquor store to here. Now, all she had to do was say it. 

Maria turned back to Eliza, laughing softly. “He’s got a point.”

Eliza looked up from where she was running a rag over the counter. “How’s it going?”

Maria took a deep breath. “So I got you a present. I went downtown to get it.” She walked closer to Eliza and leaned against the counter. “Doing anything tonight?”

Eliza motioned to the rag on the counter. “Just cleaning.”

Maria nodded. “Well you’re done for the day—”

Eliza let out a loud guffaw. “No way.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “Cause we’ve got a date.”

Eliza perked up at that, her eyes almost comically wide. “Okay,” she said, setting down her cleaning rag.

“Before you board that plane—” Maria pulled out the bottle of mildly cold champagne. “—I owe you a bottle of cold champagne.”

Eliza gasped, taking the bottle. “No…”

Maria nodded. “Cold champagne.”

“Damn, the bottle’s all sweaty and everything.” Eliza ran her hands over the bottle and looked up at Maria, her voice portraying amazement. “You went and got this.”

Maria shrugged it off, despite being really very pleased at Eliza’s smile. God, how had she not noticed how pretty Eliza was when she smiled?

Actually, scratch that, how had Maria not noticed how pretty Eliza was all the time? Maria forced herself to keep speaking, lest she just stare and admire Eliza’s beauty.

“Pop the champagne!” Maria cheered, throwing away the bag.

Eliza’s face paled. “I don’t know if we have coffee cups or plastic cups… I think Philip packed the cups—”

Maria placed a hand on Eliza’s arm before she could overthink herself into a frenzy. “Tonight, we're drinking straight from the bottle.” Eliza flushed and began messing with the bottle. 

Maria turned away from Eliza, because she really wasn’t sure she could talk to her if she had to make eye contact, and she started talking. “Eliza?”

“Yeah?” Eliza mumbled absently, clearly still fiddling with the champagne.

_ Come on, Maria _ , Maria thought to herself.  _ Don’t back out now _ . 

“Angelica told me what you did for me, and… it’s honestly the sweetest thing anyone  _ ever _ did for me.” She turned to face Eliza. “Now… what can I say or do to possibly repay you for your kindness?”

Eliza tapped the bottle awkwardly. “How do you get this gold shit off?”

Maria sighed, but she kept speaking. She needed to get this out. She felt like if she kept all this inside her any longer she’d burst.

“Eliza!”

“Yeah?” 

“Before we both leave town, before the corner changes and the signs are taken down, let’s walk around the neighborhood and say our goodbyes.” She couldn’t believe it, but she actually felt a little sad to be leaving. Eliza was silent.

Maria turned to Eliza, who was tapping the edge of the champagne bottle on the counter. “Eliza, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m tryna open this champagne Y'see the twisty thing is broken.” She pointed at the cork. “But I’m gonna open this damn champagne.”

Maria took a deep breath in. A part of her was upset that Eliza was so damn focused on the bottle that she hadn’t even heard Maria’s speech.

The other part of her, the part that Maria often ignored, wanted to kiss Eliza for being so cute.

She grabbed for the bottle. “Lemme see it—”

Eliza looked personally offended as she jumped back. “No, I got it.”

“Yo, Eliza, drop the champagne.” Maria lunged and grabbed the bottle. 

Eliza shook her head. “I mean you went through all this trouble to get us a little bubbly—”

Maria set the bottle down on the counter and, on an impulse, she took Eliza’s hands. “And it’s gonna be okay.”

Eliza sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She exhaled deeply. “It’s been a long day.”

Maria nodded and looked around the shop. “You oughta stay,” she mumbled, more to herself than to Eliza, but evidently she wasn’t quiet enough and Eliza perked up.

“What?”

Maria flinched, but she wasn’t going to pretend that she’d said nothing. Because wasn’t it just her luck to realize she loved someone right as they were about to leave forever?

And she didn’t want Eliza to go.

“You can use that money to fix this place,” she pointed out, running her hand along the cracked counter.

Eliza shook her head. “Ha ha, very funny.”

Maria wanted to scream. Eliza didn’t understand. She wasn’t joking. She was trying to find any reason to get Eliza to stay.

“And it’s not like Philip’s got role models—”

“Role models?” Eliza repeated.

“Stepping up to the plate—”

Eliza scoffed. “Yo, what are you talking about?”

Maria huffed and whirled around to look Eliza in the eyes. She might as well be blunt about it. “I’m just saying. I think your vacation can wait.”

Eliza opened her mouth to speak before closing it again. After a few seconds, she opened her mouth again. “Vacation? Maria, you’re leaving too!”

Maria ran a hand through her hair. Despite her best efforts, she was starting to panic. She was shoving too much emotion, revealing herself too much, and she was going to end up saying something she’d regret.

“I’m going down to West Fourth Street; you can take the A—”

Eliza groaned. “What are you trying to say?” 

Maria didn’t pay her any mind and just kept talking. “You’re leaving the country, and we’re never gonna see you again—” Maria tried to keep her voice level, but she was practically shrill at this point. All she could think about was that Eliza was leaving town.

She was leaving Maria.

“What are you trying to say?” Eliza asked again.

Maria threw her hands in the air. “You get everyone addicted to your coffee then off you go!”

Eliza sighed. “Maria, I don’t why you’re mad at me.”

Maria turned to look at Eliza. “I wish I was mad!”

And she really did. Anger she could handle. It was what she felt every time she saw her mom, or Angelica tried to get in her business. She could deal with anger.

But sadness? The lingering feeling of abandonment? She couldn’t handle that. 

She needed to get out. 

Maria made for the door, but Eliza grabbed her arm and turned Maria towards her.

Eliza was wide eyed and, with her hands on Maria’s arms and her lips  _ right there _ , Maria couldn’t stop herself.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to Eliza’s.

Eliza gasped and pulled her closer. Eliza tasted like coffee, bubble gum, that stupid cake batter chapstick that she was so fond of, and something that Maria figured was just wholly Eliza.

God, she wanted to stay right in that moment and never leave. Because, in Eliza’s arms, she didn’t have to think about telling her mom she was moving, or the fact that this was, most likely, the first and last time that she’d ever kiss Eliza. She could just float in waves of bliss.

She pulled Eliza closer.

However, as all things must, the kiss ended and they broke apart. Only then did Maria realize that she was crying. Eliza was standing before her, dazed and touching her lips like she couldn’t quite believe what had happened.

Maria wasn’t sure she could either.

“I’m just too late…” Maria admitted pitifully. And, before she could start bawling her eyes out in front of Eliza, she ducked out of the store.

Maria ran the whole way home and, only once she collapsed in bed, did she allow herself to really sob.

Eliza watched Maria go. She was still somewhere between dazed and confused. As soon as she broke out of her kiss induced trance, she knew she should’ve gone after Maria.

But it was too late now. She was leaving tomorrow and there was nothing to be done. 

Still, Eliza wondered how different things would’ve turned out had she asked Maria out sooner.

Eliza sighed and tried to expel all thoughts of Maria from her head. She had a bag to finish packing.

However, Eliza couldn’t focus on packing her bag. Her thoughts were still consumed by Maria, Maria, Maria…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Also, a little irrelevant fun fact: this is my favorite chapter I’ve written on this work. So that’s fun. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, thank you for all the comments and kudos, and have a nice day!
> 
> (Also, don’t feel pressured to leave comments or Kudos, but it would be nice.)


	12. When You’re Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When You’re Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the chapter!

The sun was going down when John finally made his way to the Washington’s dispatch center for the last time.

Five years of his life passed before his eyes as John adjusted his uniform in his arms and dug around in his pocket for the keys.

John inhaled and slowly opened the door. John flicked the lights on out of habit, but inside it remained dark.

The blackout was still going on.

John sighed and set down his uniform on the counter. This was it. This was really it. The five years he’d worked here were over.

For most of his life he’d, in some way, been around this building. Whether it had been to hide from the cops or to wait inside for Mr. Washington to come and fetch the car to teach him to drive, this building was interwoven within his memories.

And, soon, it would be owned by someone else.

Yet, despite the worry of paying for his apartment, John wasn’t afraid. He knew how to run a business, and maybe this was the push he needed to finally begin working on his own business.

It was like Philip had said: he needed to strike out on his own.

He was twenty four years old. He couldn’t afford to put off his dreams any longer.

And, as John straightened the tie on his folded uniform for a final time, he felt like he was saying goodbye to his childhood and the past and finally looking to the future.

Which, in a way, he was.

No longer would he be working under someone else. He would be his own boss and run his own business.

If Mr. and Mrs. Washington had done it in much more extenuating conditions than John was in, John could surely do it, too.

Maybe, to John, anyway, they were all saying goodbye to the past and finally looking to the future.

Angelica and Peggy were moving the salon to the Bronx, Mr. and Mrs. Washington were selling the dispatch, Abuelo Mulligan was dead, John was embarking on a whole new path, and Eliza was leaving for Sanya, which was what she always wanted.

Eliza… John was happy for Eliza, he really was. But it would be weird to not see her, and, he hated to admit it, Philip everyday.

That just left Alex… 

Alex… John knew that Alex had decided to go talk to his parents about something, but he didn’t know what. Would Alex be going back to Stanford?

If he was, John was in no way surprised. Alex had always been too good for their little neighborhood. Of course he would go and change the world.

John flipped open his phone and checked the last text he’d sent.

_ Mr. Washington, I’m at the dispatch. Do you think we could talk _ ?

Mr. Washington responded ten minutes ago saying he’d be on his way, but John wondered if, as a final screw you to him, Mr. Washington wasn't going to come.

John literally shook the thought away, and sat down on one of the dispatch’s chairs. Maybe he should go outside? A dark room wasn’t exactly the best spot to have a conversation.

John put the keys to the dispatch in his pocket, gave one final glance at his folded up uniform, and stepped outside just in time to see Maria run out of the bodega.

He wondered if Eliza and Maria had finally got their heads out of their asses.

John sighed and tapped his fingers restlessly against his thigh, his eyes scanning the block for any sign of Mr. or even Mrs. Washington.

Finally, at the end of the block, he saw Mr. Washington, Alex behind him. Alex smiled and hurried over to the curb, sitting down with his arms resting on his knees.

Mr. Washington nodded at John in greeting.

“Thanks for coming, boss,” John said.

“Call me George.” It looked like it physically pained him to say it, and John wondered if Alex or Mrs. Washington had something to do with the abrupt change in attitude.

“Look, if this is about Alex—”

John cut him off before he could finish speaking. “It’s about you and me.”

George nodded, but he didn’t stop to let John talk. “He’s going back in the fall.”

John paused. He took a breath. He could worry about that later. “Tomorrow I’ma start planning my own business, and I can’t do that until I finish this.”  _ Breathe, John _ . “My uniform is on the counter. Here’s your keys.” He handed George the keys. “We’re all squared away. I had your back, George. Now I got my own.”

George nodded and disappeared inside the dispatch. John let out a breath and walked over to where Alex was still sitting on the curb.

“Hi,” Alex said, standing up and kissing John in greeting. John smiled.

“When the sun goes down, you’re gonna need a flashlight. You’re gonna need a candle—”

“I think I can manage that,” Alex cut him off gently, rubbing his fingers over John’s knuckles. John nodded.

“When you leave town, I’m gonna buy you a calling card. ‘Cuz I’m falling hard for you.” Alex flushed pink and he squeezed John’s hand tighter.

“I go back on Labor Day.”

John nodded, making a mental note to put the date on his calendar. “And I will try to make my way out west to California. So, we’ve got this summer.”

“And we’ve got each other.” Alex wrapped his arms around John’s waist. “Perhaps even longer…”

John looked down at Alex, resting his chin on the top of Alex’s head. “When you’re on your own, and suddenly without me… Will you forget about me?” He knew it was stupid, but John also knew that Alex was smart and great. Alex could go so much better than him.

Alex shook his head, breaking John out of his thoughts. “I couldn’t if I tried.”

John kissed the top of Alex’s head. “When I’m all alone, and I close my eyes—”

“That’s when I’ll see your face again.” Alex said with him.

John nodded and pulled back so he was looking Alex in the eyes. “And when you’re gone, you know that I’ll be waiting when you’re gone.”

Alex reached up to cup John’s face. “But you’re here with me. Right now…”

John nodded and steeled himself. As hard as it was to say it, it needed to be said. “We’ll be working hard, but if we should drift apart—”

Alex’s eyes widened. “John—”

“Lemme take this moment just to say—”

Alex shook his head rapidly. “No, no…”

“You are gonna change the world someday.” John leaned down to kiss Alex’s temple. Alex wiped. away a tear that John hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“I’ll be thinking of home,” Alex assured him and John closed the small gap between them, cherishing the feeling of Alex’s hand in his and Alex’s lips against his.

“And I’ll think of you every night, at the same time,” John said once they broke apart. Alex repeated it.

“When the sun goes down.” John nodded.

“That will be our moment. We’ll know the other is thinking of us,” Alex said, kissing John again.

“When the sun goes down…” John nodded and slipped his hand into Alex’s. “Can I walk you home?”

Alex rolled his eyes, but he interlocked their arms together. “And here I was, thinking that chivalry was dead.”

John laughed, kissing Alex’s forehead. “Only for you. Only for you.”

Philip had ran out of the bodega as fast as he could carry himself. Fine, fine, fine.

Eliza could have her stupid date or whatever it was with Maria— as if the only reason Maria knew Eliza liked her wasn’t because of Philip— and Philip would be left with just money, all alone.

Fine, fine, fine.

It didn’t matter. Eliza was leaving to live her best life and leaving everybody all alone. Philip should’ve been happy.

It was summer and he’d no longer have to wake up at five thirty a.m. to get to his shift on time. It was like Eliza had said: he was free. It was what he’d always wanted.

Except that it wasn’t. Not anymore.

Philip was loath to admit it, but he’d grown fond of working at the bodega. When he’d agreed to work at the bodega three summers before, he hadn’t actually thought he’d like it.

But he had.

He’d even made a friend out of it. Him and Graffiti Patsy had bonded over a love of bothering Eliza as often as possible.

Eliza was his cousin, and he had enjoyed bugging her and getting to know her. He’d even enjoyed John’s constant presence and bonding with him over making fun of Eliza’s obvious crush on Maria.

But Eliza was leaving. And it was over.

Philip knew it was terrible not to be happy for Eliza. Eliza had wanted to move to Sanya for years, and it was her dream, but he was gonna miss her, damn it.

He paced up and down the back alleyway, the stack of cash weighing down heavily in his pockets. There had to be  _ something _ he could do.

He couldn’t just let Eliza leave!

Then it came to him, hitting him like a freight train. He grabbed his pager. He needed to get Graffiti Patsy here. 

Soon, preferably.

He paced up and down the alleyway, then he kicked around a few pieces of trash and patted the neighborhood stray cat, then he checked his watch, because it had to have been at  _ least _ then minutes, right?

It hadn’t even been five.

Philip sighed and walked around to the edge of the street. Alex and John were walking away, hand in hand, and Philip sighed.

At least they got their happy ending. At least someone got a happy ending.

Philip checked his watch again and when he looked up finally, finally, Graffiti Patsy was strolling down the street without a care in the world.

She glanced around, saw Philip, and hurried over. “You paged me?”

Philip nodded and gestured to the side of the streetlight that wasn’t covered in darkness. “Shh. Step into my office.”

Patsy snorted, but she stepped over into the light. “What’s this all about?”

Philip glared at her. “I just came into a little money and I got a business proposition to throw your way.”

Philip leaned forward to whisper in Patsy’s ear. When they stepped back, she was nodding vigorously. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m feeling that.”

Philip thanked the heavens that she’d said yes and pulled out three one hundred dollar bills. “Is this enough to get you started?”

Patsy’s eyes practically bulged out of her head as she took the money with grabby hands. “Shit, Philip, with this much cash I can  _ hook it up _ . But it’ll take all night.”

Philip shrugged. “That’s fine.” He looked around at the empty block. “No one knows about this but you and me, you got it?”

Patsy nodded. “Understood.”

Philip shook Patsy’s hand and ran off back to his apartment. God, he hoped this would work. Because, if it didn’t, Eliza really would be leaving forever.

He waved at his Dad as he hurried inside to his room. This had to work. Eliza was emotional, and there was no way his plan wouldn’t move her.

Patsy was talented.

But what if it didn’t? What if Eliza just got upset and left for Sanya anyway? What would Philip do without Eliza and the bodega?

He physically shook his head, put his pajamas on, and crawled into bed, forcing himself to only think positively. This  _ would _ work. It would work, Eliza would fix up the bodega, and her and Maria would finally start going out.

It had to work. Philip had to believe it was going to work.

“It’s going to be fine,” Philip mumbled to himself, setting his alarm for five thirty a.m. “It will be fine.”

Philip pulled his blankets up higher on his chin. He needed to sleep. Besides, the sooner he went to sleep the sooner he would stop having to worry about everything.

The sooner things would return to normal.

Still, he couldn’t push away his worries. This was his last chance to change anything. If this failed, then what would he do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this penultimate chapter!   
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, thank you for the comments and kudos, and have since day.
> 
> (Also, don’t feel pressured to leave comments or Kudos, but it would be nice.)


	13. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter!

The sun was just peeking out from the edge of the sky when Elizabeth Schuyler stepped out from what used to be her Abuelo’s house and straightened her shirt, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Eliza sighed as she looked around the still dark neighborhood. The blackout was still going on and on. Eliza sighed and sat down on the steps to, what used to be, Abuelo’s house.

She thought about the past. About how everything was changing. For years she had told herself she would visit Sanya. And now she was doing it.

Really, truly, doing it. Philip was out back sorting the trash, and Eliza wondered what he would do once Eliza left. Probably watch television and celebrate his newfound freedom.

God, Eliza was really leaving today. She’d always assumed that since she was born here she’d die here, but it seemed that wouldn’t be the case. She was leaving today, on a seven-forty-seven and boarding at JFK…

Abuelo had always wanted her on a beach with margaritas in her reach, and soon that was how it was going to be…

Not only was she fulfilling the promise she’d made to her parents, but she was doing what her and Abuelo were going to do. She was doing what she’d always wanted.

Right?

A cool breeze was blowing off the Hudson and the hydrants were open. Eliza rolled her eyes fondly and remembered watching from the bodega how John would bust them open with a wrench and then sprint to the dispatch.

Everything was really changing. There would be no more mornings walking to the bodega and admiring the shine of the sun off the fire escapes.

No more nights in Bennett Park blasting Big Pun tapes with John and dancing like their lives depended on it.

Eliza was moving on. They all were.

Still, she’d have been blatantly lying if she didn’t think she was going to miss this place. She would miss George dispensing wisdom from his dispatch booth, John coming in for coffee, and at dawn, Maria and the ladies at the salon. 

But most of all, Eliza would miss Abuelo’s whispers and doing the lotto pick six at every Christmas.

Eliza sighed, resting her elbows on her knees. Who would even notice they were gone, in the end? In five years, it would all be rich people and hipsters trying to “fix up” Eliza’s neighborhood.

Who would even miss her raggedy little business?

Despite the fact that this was what Eliza had wanted for so long, she couldn’t quite calm her mind. When the evening winds calmed to a crawl, she’d be on a plane to take her away. 

Eliza wondered how she could reconcile everything with herself.

Eliza sighed and glanced at the Bodega. Just a few days ago she’d been ready to have another unextraordinary week.

Now here she was. 

Angelica stopped her old car in front of the salon’s new building in the Bronx. The sun had just barely come up, and Peggy was dozing in the passenger seat, but Angelica wanted to get started on unpacking as soon as possible.

The sooner she unpacked, the sooner she could open her doors, and the sooner she could begin making money again.

Angelica sighed and glanced over to her right, making sure that Peggy was still asleep. Seeing that she was, Angelica leaned her head on the steering wheel.

This was really it. She was really here. A cheaper, yet still better, place and with a bright future ahead of her.

In the Bronx they’d be open to more customers and much more widely known then they’d been in the practically unheard of Jackson Heights.

Still, she felt like, when she left the salon, she was leaving a part of her heart there as well. After all, Angelica had built that place up from nothing.

She’d redone the floors with her own money, painted the walls, picked the salon chairs, picked out the sign, painted the grate with flowers…

And now it was time to do it all over again. Angelica straightened her back. There was no use crying over the past. This was the now, and Angelica was going to make her salon the most well known one in the Bronx if it was the last damn thing she did.

Angelica nudged Peggy’s shoulder. Peggy’s nose twitched and she sat up, rubbing her eyes and stretching. Her hand hit the top of Angelica’s roof.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Angie!” she exclaimed, looking around confusedly. Then it seemed to dawn on her. “We’re here?”

Angelica nodded and unclicked her seat belt, grabbing her purse. Peggy bounded out of the car after her.

Angelica stopped by the door and fumbled with her keys. Peggy was, surprisingly, quiet and still, looking around at the still drowsy city with awe and excitement.

It was one of the things Angelica admired the most about Peggy: her ability to always see the beauty in everything. Not that Angelica would ever admit it.

Angelica finally found the new salon key and braced herself. “This is it,” Angelica whispered and Peggy clapped.

“Wait!” Peggy exclaimed out of the blue, running back to the car. Angelica watched her fumble around in the back seat before producing a pastry bag.

She trotted back over and opened the bag, revealing two slices of frosted lemon pound cake. “I thought we should celebrate.” Peggy grinned and Angelica rolled her eyes, unlocking the door with a click.

She hesitantly pushed open the door. She expected to feel nothing but disappointment when she opened the doors, but instead, Angelica found herself thinking of all the new possibilities for the building.

Certain color accents, where to place mirrors… It all came to her. 

Angelica stepped in and Peggy came after her. “Pound cake first— then we unpack,” Peggy said firmly, leading Angelica to the counter and hoisting herself up.

Peggy patted the spot beside her and Angelica jumped up, smiling. Peggy handed her a napkin and her piece.

“Could we paint a wall yellow?” Peggy asked after a moment, placing a piece of cake in her mouth.

Angelica nodded and wrapped an arm around Peggy’s waist. “Of course. This is Angelica and Peggy’s Salon, after all.”

Peggy gasped and a smile lit up her face. Before Angelica knew what was happening, Peggy threw her arms around Angelica’s neck.

“Ooh, thank you, Angie!”

Angelica shook her head. “Oye, don’t get all soft on me.”

Peggy nodded and took a deep breath. “I know this is our new building, and we have to unpack, but do you think we could go visit the barrio? Eliza’s leaving today, and I want to say goodbye.”

Angelica nodded. “Of course.”

The Bronx was the salon’s new home, sure, but Angelica’s home would always be Jackson Heights.

Maria looked around her room, the bright white credit acceptance paper sitting on the middle of her crappy desk.

Maria thumbed through her closet, tossing jackets, shirts, and sweaters on her bed or the floor. She put them in two piles: keep or donate.

She was really moving. In less than two weeks, she’d be downtown with a new apartment, free from the confines of her claustrophobic neighborhood.

Well, most of the confines. 

She was still working at the salon for now, but she’d come to realize that maybe Angelica wasn’t  _ that bad _ , and she’d probably leave Maria alone about Eliza now.

Eliza…

Maria genuinely wasn’t even sure what had happened last night. What had the kiss meant? She sighed. She should probably text Alex and ask him for advice.

Maria shook her head. She wasn’t going to think about Eliza. Sure, right now she was so hopelessly in love she felt as if she might burst with the strength of it, but it wouldn’t always be that way. 

It would fade as time went on and the kiss faded further and further into the past. Now, though?

Now Maria had an apartment and lease papers ready for her and she was finally beginning to pave her own path.

Maria turned back to her closet when the door opened. Susanna, her mom, stood blankly in the doorway.

“Mary, why are you packing?” 

Maria winced and grabbed her mom’s arm. Well, better she tell her now rather than later. “Mom, I need to tell you something.”

Susanna rolled her eyes. “Honey, if it’s that your bisexual, it’s okay, I already know.”

Maria froze. Granted, she hadn’t been expecting her mother to say  _ that _ of all things. Maria forced herself to look on the bright side. 

At least, on the off chance she ended up deciding to invite her mom to her future wedding, she might not have to explain to her why she was marrying a girl.

_ Focus _ ,  _ Maria _ , Maria reminded herself. “Uh… thanks, Mom, but it’s not that. I, uh, I’m moving out.”

Susanna stared at Maria, her mouth slowly forming an ‘o’ shape as her intoxicated brain processed the news.

“Oh.”

Maria blinked. One. Twice.  _ Oh _ . That was her response? Jesus Christ. Maria wondered how many drinks she’d had already.

“You’re not going to ask me why?”

Susanna shook her head. “I think we both know why. Why bother wasting time saying things we both know? I’m glad you’re moving out. It’s what you always wanted, Mary.”

Maria pinched the bridge of her nose. “I go by  _ Maria _ , S— Mom. We’ve been over this.”

Susanna frowned. “Right. Are you moving in with James, then?”

Maria flinched. Hard. God, how had her mother not noticed that they’d broken up? Maria had burned all of the pictures of the two of them on her fire escape and cried in Alex’s arms over it.

“James and I broke up three years ago, Mom.” Maria said slowly.

Susanna sighed. “Jesus, Maria, don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

Maria stood up. “Mom, you know I’m moving out, and I’m kind of worried… worried about  _ you _ .” 

The,  _ I’m worried you’ll drink yourself to death and I won’t be able to stop you _ , went unsaid.

“Have you ever thought about getting some help—”

Susanna held out a hand. “Maria, go live your life. I’m living mine. You can’t change what I choose to do with my time.”

Maria gaped at Susanna before nodding. Okay, then. “Can you leave then?” Maria asked, nodding her head towards the door.

She was trying to be positive and her mother was making that extremely difficult. Susanna nodded and left without another word.

Maria locked her door and spun around, flopping onto her bed. She didn’t have to go to work until tomorrow, and she had almost two weeks until she moved. 

It wouldn’t be long now…

What was she supposed to do today? Maria glanced at her watch. She should probably nap, considering she hadn’t slept a wink last night, but she wasn’t tired.

Maria jumped up, slid on her sneakers, and threw open her door. Yeah, things between Eliza and her were awkward, but she wanted to see Alex. And, if she happened to see Eliza on her way, well she wouldn’t be opposed to it.

George was setting up their latter as Martha watched on. This was truly it. They had emptied the dispatch earlier this morning and now all that was left was the sign.

Martha reminded herself that it was a good thing that they were selling the business. They were selling the business so that Alex, their sunshine, could go farther than they had.

By god, he was going to change the world, and Martha would not be involved in hindering his doing so.

Sometimes, being a parent meant making sacrifices. Martha supposed that this was one of the sacrifices that hurt more than others.

Still, as willing as she was now to make that sacrifice, she would be deliberately lying if she said that it didn’t hurt.

Martha remembered being nineteen, fresh off the boat in America, with George’s hand in her’s.

He’d talked big, telling Martha all about what their future was going to be and how great it would be and how successful they’d be.

At the time, Martha hadn’t believed a word. Five years later, she still didn’t believe it when she’d collapsed into George’s arms after being told that she wouldn’t be able to have children.

Every day, Martha prayed for a miracle. Nothing happened.

But then they’d met Alex almost two years later. Wide eyed, two year old Alex, also fresh off the boat in America, with a dead mom and brother and a dad that was god knows where doing god knows what.

Martha had fallen in love with Alex at first sight, and when she held him she knew he was hers. When they’d brought him home, Martha had held him in her arms all night, terrified that he’d suddenly disappear if she didn’t keep a watch on him.

She never really stopped thinking that.

But, as Alex matured, Martha knew she couldn’t hover forever. Alex was independent and Martha had to respect that.

As the business grew, so did Martha’s love for their little family and her brilliant boy. Even then, Alex had had a wisdom far beyond his few years.

And there had been bumps in the road. But Martha was certain that Alex would succeed and go on to make them all proud.

Even if he wandered off the path, he’d always return and come back home.

George slowly climbed up the latter’s steps and unscrewed the sign. Martha remembered being in the same position over twenty years ago. Except, then, they’d been putting the sign up.

There were very few moments in life where one could say they’d come full circle, but Martha knew this was one of those moments.

Martha watched George unscrew one bolt, then two, then three, then it was the final bolt. George breathed in heavily and unscrewed it, taking the sign down gently.

If Martha squinted, she could see the glimmer of a much older sign reading: Steuben’s Car Service.

Martha sighed and hurried over to George to help him set the sign down, lest he hurt his back again.

“Well, this is it,” George said, wrapping an arm around Martha’s waist.

Martha shook her head. “No, George. That’s where you’re wrong. This is only the beginning.” 

George nodded. “You’re right.”

Martha nudged his shoulder. “Aren’t I always?”

They would be okay. Martha was sure of it. Everything would always turn out okay in the end when they were home.

Alex smiled as he looked down and was blessed with the sight of John asleep in bed. Alex brushed a few strands of hair out of his face and stretched.

Alex wondered how he’d gotten this lucky.

Just a few days ago, he’d been panicking in a cheap hotel room at this time, reminding himself that everything was going to turn out fine, and he could probably find a job at the library or something.

Now, two days later, he was going back to college, had a boyfriend, and nothing to worry about. Except, Alex did worry.

What if he went back to school and found he still couldn’t do it? What if he returned home again and it turned out his parents had sold the business for nothing?

What if he came home to find that no one wanted him there anymore? What if they all realized he wasn’t as great and smart as they thought?

What if  _ John _ realized that he could find someone so much better than Alex?

John was starting his own business. He needed someone by his side, not someone roughly three thousand miles away. 

“Mm, Alex, stop overthinking so loud,” John grumbled into his pillow. Alex winced.

“Sorry, John.” He ran a hand over John’s back, rubbing his index finger up and down his spine. Everything was okay. Everything was going to be  _ fine _ .

He was going back to Stanford, he was going to graduate with honors, and he would come home to proud parents and a smiling John.

John wanted him. John chose him. 

Then why was he still so nervous?

John groaned and sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. He interlaced his fingers with Alex’s, and Alex was immensely glad for the contact.

“Alex, what’s wrong?” John ran the back of his hand over Alex’s cheek. Alex sighed.

“It’s nothing important.”

John frowned. “If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.”

Alex sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just… I don’t know. What if I fail? What if I go back to Stanford and it turns out I really can’t do it? That I’m not some big genius after all?”

John nodded his head. Alex took it as a sign to keep going. “What if I come home, but this time there’s nothing anyone can do? Then my parents will have sold their business for nothing, and you’ll be the guy who’s boyfriend dropped out of college not once, but twice. I don’t want to embarrass you.”

John bit his lip. “Are you done?” Alex nodded. Alex waited for John to speak. He expected John to do a lot of things. Maybe tell Alex to stop being ridiculous. What he did not expect was for John to grab Alex’s face between his hands and turn his face towards him.

“Alex, you will never, ever, embarrass me. Do you understand? Honestly, you should be embarrassed by  _ me _ . I mean, I don’t have a job and I’m about to probably fail at creating business. I know I say it a lot, but, Alex, you’re gonna change the world, and if that’s with or without a degree, so be it. But I have no doubts about you graduating. You don’t have to believe me now, but you’ll always have a home to come back to with me.”

Alex sniffed. “You finished?” John nodded. “Okay, John. One: you’re amazing and you’re gonna be so incredibly successful. I’m gonna be the luckiest guy ever. Two: I want to thank you for having so much faith in me. And, even if I’ll be roughly three thousand miles away, I’ll be as helpful as I can.” 

Alex breathed in deeply as John pressed their lips together. “Alex, you are amazing.”

Alex felt himself blush and he kissed John again, smiling into it. “John, thank you. For everything.”

John waved a hand dismissively and rested his head in the crook of Alex’s neck. “I’ll be waiting for you, Alex. And, when you come back, I’m going to be so proud.”

Alex nodded his head. “As will I.”

Alex still had a million things he could worry about, and he knew that he’d worry about them, but in John’s arms he felt safe and I like nothing could touch them.

He felt at home.

Eliza sighed from her perch on Abuelo’s stoop. What was taking Philip so long to finish sorting the trash? It didn’t take twenty minutes.

Eliza jumped up to find Philip, only to have him come out onto the street himself, immediately going over to Graffiti Patsy.

Graffiti Patsy smiled and looked around. “What it do? Great sunlight this morning.”

Philip nodded, turning to yell for Eliza. “Yo, cuz, we fixed the grate!” Eliza rolled her eyes and hurried over to where Philip was standing outside the bodega.

“Philip, what did I tell you about this punk?” Eliza placed a hand on her hip.

Philip shook his head. “You have to commission an artist while her rates are still good.”

Before Eliza could even begin contemplating what Philip meant by that, Graffiti Patsy ran over to the grate. “It’s the first work in my new series.” She pulled the grate down and Eliza sucked in a breath.

On the grate was a beautifully drawn painting of Abuelo Mulligan, with his motto, Paciencia y fe, at the bottom with flowers surrounding it.

Eliza felt her eyes flood with tears. To her side, she could vaguely hear Philip and Graffiti Patsy talking quietly.

“She hates it,” Graffiti Patsy said flatly.

“Shh.” Philip shushed her, holding a hand out in front of Graffiti Patsy. “She’s forming an artistic opinion.”

Eliza finally managed to pull herself together enough to turn to Philip and Graffiti Patsy. “You did this last night?”

Graffiti Patsy rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “Uh, yeah.”

Eliza nodded. “There goes my flight.”

Philip’s eyes practically bulged out of his head. “What?”

Eliza nodded. How, or why, she had ever wanted to be anywhere but here, she didn’t know. All she knew was that she wasn’t leaving.

“Graffiti Patsy, you’re gonna need some new cans. Here’s some money—” Eliza handed Graffiti Patsy the two hundred dollars in her pocket. “—finish up, there’s been a slight change of plans!”

“Nice!” Graffiti Patsy said.

“Listen up guys, you got a job, I’m not playin’. You gotta go now, tell the whole block I’m stayin’! Go ahead, tell everyone we know!”

Philip took a step forward in Eliza’s direction, throwing his arms around her waist. Eliza smiled and rubbed his head.

“Philip…” Philip shook his head and Eliza nodded. They could talk about it later. “Alright, go!”

Eliza watched as they ran off. Yeah, Eliza was a streetlight, chilling in the heat. She’d illuminate the stories of the people in the street. Eliza had never been the type to try and grab the spotlight, after all. She’d shine the spotlight on others.

She knew all the block’s stories, and that’s what made her life complete. And if not her, who would keep their legacies? Who would keep the coffee sweet with secret recipes? 

Eliza glanced at the grate.  _ Abuelo, rest in peace, you live in my memories _ , Eliza thought, smiling.  _ Abuelo, I’m sorry. But I ain’t goin’ back because I’m telling your story. And I can say goodbye to you smiling, I found my country _ .

She’d been on it the whole time.

Eliza turned around to see Alex and John, hand in hand, gasp at the grate and smile. Alex’s eyes met Eliza’s and he ran over, hugging her tightly.

Behind Alex, John smiled. “I’m glad you’re staying, Eliza.”

Eliza smiled. “I am too.”

She looked around at the slowly crowding street. There was so much to do. However, she knew the one thing she had to do first. She was going to step up to Maria, and she was getting a second date.

Eliza turned to Alex. “Have you seen Maria?” Alex nodded. 

“She’s right behind you,” Alex said. “Go get your girl!” 

Eliza turned around to see Philip talking to Maria, presumably telling her the news.

Eliza was not expecting to see Maria’s face light up and for her to smile from ear to ear. Maria and her made eye contact, and Eliza rushed over to her.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Angelica and Peggy cheer.

Eliza held out her hands for Maria to, hopefully, take. Maria did so without hesitation. Eliza opened her mouth to speak, but Maria beat her to it. 

“You’re staying? For good?”

Eliza nodded. “Yeah. And, Maria, I was wondering, are you free tonight?”

Maria nodded her head vigorously. “Yes, yes, yes. Did I mention yes?” Eliza couldn’t help her giggle.

Surrounded by her family and friends, holding the girl she’d loved for years hands’, Eliza wondered why she’d ever wanted to leave; why she’d ever questioned where her home was.

She’d been there all along in Jackson Heights.

Sure it was a hundred in the shade, and people came and went, but she loved it with all her heart.

Eliza was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Its crazy to think I’m done, but I really appreciate all of the likes and kudos. Thank you so much! Have a nice day and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> (Also, don’t feel pressured to leave comments or Kudos, but it would be nice.)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I don’t know, but I had fun writing it. Updates every Monday, Thursday, and Saturday. The chapters will, probably, get longer. Have a nice day, and, if you haven’t listened to In the Heights yet, you should.
> 
> (Also, don’t feel pressured to leave comments or Kudos, but it would be nice.) would


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